Soda
by Syrograph
Summary: After Rigby smashes Mordecai's foot in an accident and gets fired from his job; he meets a peculiar tourist from Germany. He's a trouble-maker with seemingly nothing better to do than harass people for kicks, but is he who he appears to be?
1. Chapter 1: Call Dem Amberlamps

Soda:  
Chapter 1: Call Dem Amberlamps

A quiet hiss filled the air as the ring-pull popped open; the distinctive metallic cracking sound only comparable to an egg shell breaking on the rim of a bowl. An eye lined up with the rim of the aluminium can. "Soooodaaaaa!" The rim of the container met the lips of a raccoon, pouring the noxious, sweetened rust remover on to his tongue; greedily consumed gulp after gulp.

"Dude, slow down; we only got a few cans, remember?" came his friend's scrutinising tones. "Besides, if you drink it like that, you'll get all hyper and junk." The raccoon shot a glance of disapproval at the jay, watching as he opened his own can. "I don't want a repeat of your tenth birthday." He chuckled as he sipped at the cola that foamed out from the top.

"Shut up!" Rigby barked, tensing up his shoulders. "That only happened cuz you dared me to do it!" He growled, baring his teeth.

"Uh huh, and if I dared you to eat dirt, would you do that too?" Mordecai raised an eyebrow and smirked down at him. Rigby was about to reply, but he continued, "oh, wait you did!" He laughed in a derisive manner, before Rigby shot a weak punch at his friend's leg. "Hmm! Hmm! Hmm-hmm!" He jeered as his fist bounced off of his skinny thigh. The raccoon walked away a few steps before slumping down on to his trampoline; where he bounced shortly on the spot. The sudden jerking motion caused some of his beverage to slosh out of its container, splashing on to his fur.

"Grrr! That's just great!" He seemed to be getting angrier by the second. Mordecai was used to it, however.

"C'mon, man. Don't cry about it; it's just a lil' soda." He jibed, trying to sound as condesdending as possible. He knew he should never urge him on like that, but something about it was all too amusing. In fact, to Mordecai, it could very well have been an Olympic event; one that he would win medals in.

"But it'll get me all sticky. Blegh." Rigby whined, complaining just as he always did.

"That's what she... uh. Never mind." Mordecai caught himself as Rigby glared at him with daggers in his eyes. Mordecai didn't want to risk what could happen to him in his sleep; especially with Rigby's mind as the driving force. Besides, that sort of humour was Muscleman's forte. Rigby stood up and shook off the remaining droplets from his forearm, aiming them at Mordecai. "Not cool, man." He commented flatly.

"Whatever, I'm going to get a shower." He firmly placed the can of drink on the floor, walking away. He opened the door to the hallway and turned to face Mordecai again. "Enjoy your soda." He screwed his face up as though he had just smelled something rancid, then disappeared, slamming the door behind him. The blue jay sighed.

"Classic Rigby." He mumbled to himself, taking another sip of his drink.

After he finished his can of soda, he sat on his bed and waited for his friend to return, tapping his feet on the floor along to a song that was stuck in his head. The sound of the water running through the pipes in the house was oddly calming; a hissing white noise that blended in to the background. He laid his head back on the bed, turning so that he was lying along the mattress on top of the covers. He closed his eyes and continued to drum along to the song in his head by patting his hands on his stomach.

Eventually Rigby returned, opening the door to their room quietly. Mordecai raised his head, momentarily brought back from his zen trance of annoying pop music. "Huh?" Splat! A wet towel hit him square in the face, knocking his head back slightly. "Aw what the H, Rigby!?" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air before scrabbling to try and remove the fabric that draped across his beak. "This towel smells like butt!" He lifted it away cautiously as though it were something toxic. "You better not have flossed!" He leered at the raccoon.

"Relax dude, that towel always smells like butt." He retorted, smiling nonchalantly.

"I'm telling you, Rigby, if I wake up with my eyes stuck shut tomorrow, I'll throw your trampoline in the fountain." Mordecai's threat may as well have been a joke; but something about his expression told Rigby that he may have crossed a line.

"You wouldn't dare..." He challenged.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Mordecai knew he had spooked his room-mate ever so slightly. He grinned evilly. He stood up and wandered over to his friend's bed, lifting up one edge.

"Mordecai, don't! Please!" He begged, clasping his hands together.

"We both know that you could never stop me if I did." He reached for the other edge of the trampoline, lifting it entirely off of the floor now. "So I think I'm gonna go for a little walk- agh!" He was caught by surprise as Rigby's jumped up and planted his shoulder in to Mordecai's lower back, yelling in panic. Mordecai's head hit the wall hard as he fell over forwards, the trampoline colliding with the floor heavily. Mordecai could barely even groan as he laid painfully slumped over the solid metal frame of Rigby's trampoline. The last noise to fade after the metallic thud was the springs vibrating with an echoing hum.

"Mordecai...?" Rigby squeaked. "Oh no. Oh no! Mordecai! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" He shook his friend with his hands, as though rocking him back to consciousness.

"Awwgh, my head." Mordecai could barely think for the tinnitus and the pounding headache that now plagued him. "Ugh." He groaned, trying to heave himself upright. It was no use; he just felt as though he didn't have the energy. Rigby turned towards the door in panic as he heard footsteps rushing up the stairs to their room.

"What is going on in here!?" Benson screamed as he almost tore the door from its hinges. "What's all the noise!?" His face was glowing red with his anger. He stood panting in the door-frame as Rigby shielded his face, lest his boss spontaneously combusted.

"We're just foolin' around, right Mordecai?" There was no reply. "...Right, Mordecai?!" He asked again, trying to get a response.

"Augh..." He grunted, finally coming to; realising his position. Mordecai grasped at his temples with his hands, eyes screwed shut. He wanted to scream in pain, but his body could barely respond.

"It doesn't look like you were just goofing off to me, Rigby! What happened here?! Is he okay?!" Benson seemed equal parts worried and angry.

"Yeah he's fine! Right Mordecai?" Rigby was starting to crack, unable to refine his voice to anything more than a vague squeak. He felt the guilt pressing down on him like the roof had caved in.

"Oh my- Rigby, go and call an ambulance!" Benson demanded, pointing towards the stairs. He would deal with Rigby later; right now Mordecai needed help. The blue jay tried to turn around, standing up slightly before slumping on to his side on the wooden floor. His foot was caught under one of the bars at the foot of the trampoline.

"Ahhh!" He yelled, the effort making his head hurt all the more. He heard a crack as his foot twisted from his fall. Benson tried not to panic, rushing over to help his employee.

"Don't move, okay?" He instructed, putting a hand on Mordecai's forehead to make sure he was listening. "Okay?" He asked again.

"Uh huh." He wheezed in response, squinting as the light shining through the window burned his eyes.

* * *

Soon, an ambulance pulled up to the front of the house, braking hard and skidding to a halt on the dirt road. The paramedics clambered out of the back and wheeled a trolley out after them. Rigby stood on the porch, looking incredibly guilty. His worry made him sick to the pit of his stomach. "Hurry, guys!" He whimpered, turning to scamper through the front door and up the stairs on all fours. The paramedics followed, taking a stretcher with them, carrying it between them up to Mordecai and Rigby's bedroom. Rigby held the door open for them as the stepped in to assess the situation. Benson stood up and stepped back, giving them the space they needed. Mordecai wheezed and groaned, trying to twist his leg to remove some of the strain on his foot.

"What happened here?" One of the paramedics asked, noticing the head-shaped dent in the drywall and the deep welts in the wooden floor.

"He was...I... then..." Rigby started, trying to recall the events, but tripping over his words.

"...Look, never mind." the medic replied; rolling his eyes slightly. He'd seen the both of them at the hospital before. He knew they were probably just goofing off. He stepped forwards to try and remove the heavy trampoline from Mordecai's foot, motioning for his colleague to help him. They positioned themselves either side of the frame, looking down at Mordecai. "Okay, are you ready? This is probably going to hurt a whole lot." He raised his eye brows, trying to look friendly, but remaining quite serious. Mordecai didn't respond, instead just grimacing and holding on to his face with his hands. He nodded slowly. The paramedics lifted in unison, straining as the trampoline weighed much more than it appeared to. The blue jay winced and gasped before shouting out loud as the weight came off of his ankle. The pain throbbed up his leg to his hip, as fresh as the moment it had first happened.

"Ahhh!" He yelled, screwing his eyes shut. He didn't dare look at his foot. Rigby whimpered at the sight of it; which to Mordecai was certainly not a good sign.

"Oh, wow." Benson was in awe. "I didn't know toes could bend that way. Or that way." He most certainly wasn't helping.

"Dude that's not funny!" Mordecai shrieked, before yelping again as he tried to flex his ankle; a completely idiotic move, in hindsight. He continued to groan through his clenched jaw, trying not to move as the paramedics lifted the trampoline out of the way. Mordecai lay perfectly still, but for a slight quiver that adrenaline brought about.

After the paramedics had placed the trampoline back down on the bedroom floor, they carefully lifted Mordecai on to the stretcher. He bit down on his finger to stop himself from screaming; or worse, crying. He found it miraculous that he had never broken anything until then, considering all of the shenanigans that he and Rigby got up to. It came down to something as terrestrial as exercise equipment to cause him a serious injury. Benson and Rigby watched solemnly as they applied a brace to his foot and strapped him in to the stretcher. "I'm sorry, Mordecai." Rigby shifted uncomfortably on the spot. The jay frowned, now able to remember what his friend had done. "I'm really sorry, man." He continued.

"Shut it, Rigby." He hissed, "You know I was just joking! Why'd you have to freak out like that?" He sounded angry, his headache withdrawing just enough to let his emotions resurface.

"I don't know man, I just... uh...I don't know." He tried desperately to think of a way of justifying the way he had reacted, but could find nothing. Mordecai frowned at him as the paramedics carried him out of the room. "Wait! I want to go with you!" Rigby followed the paramedics, wanting to ride in the back of the ambulance.

"Forget it Rigby, just leave me alone." Mordecai replied, staring at the ceiling as he was carried down the stairs towards the front door.

"But..." He started, standing at the top of the stairs with one hand against the wall. "... I'm sorry." He whined. Mordecai didn't reply. Benson grabbed his arm and dragged him back in to the room.

"Right, what happened!?" He yelled straight in to the raccoon's face. "Tell me what happened or you're fired!" Rigby cowered, ears ringing slightly.

"Mordecai was going to throw my trampoline in the fountain!" He cracked under the pressure immediately. "I never meant to hurt him!" He squeaked.

"I don't care whether you meant it or not; you've crippled one of my employees! Do you know how much time his foot is going to take to heal?!" Benson didn't let up, squeezing Rigby's arm tightly, making the raccoon grimace. "I can't fire him for his injury, or I'd probably end up in court! I can fire you, though!" He threatened, as he always did.

"No, Benson, please don't!" He begged with his eyes wide.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't!" He demanded, leaning in towards the frightened raccoon. "Why shouldn't I just let you go here and now and hire someone who's not a liability?!" He screamed, making Rigby hide behind his hands, knees shaking.

"I'm sorry, okay!? I didn't mean to hurt him and I really want to keep my job!" He sounded desperate. Benson thought for a moment, trying to calm himself down. He opened his mouth again to speak, raising a finger matter-of-factly.

"Rigby, you're suspended without pay until further notice." He decided, turning to leave the room.

"Suspended? Without pay?!" Rigby flared up, stepping forwards.

"Unless you want to be entirely unemployed...?" Benson retorted, instantly silencing him. "Any more outbursts?" He turned again to look at him with his hands on his hips. Rigby shook his head solemnly. "Good."

"But, who will do my job?" He asked. Benson laughed.

"Your job? Mordecai normally does _your_ job; but since you put him in hospital, the jobs won't get done anyway. Muscleman and Fives will take over, with overtime pay of course." He knew that the other duo were certainly capable of taking up the slack. Rigby watched as Benson left, his heart sinking through the floor. He walked slowly to the window to watch the ambulance driving away from the house. He crossed his arms, leaning them on the window sill. He sighed and pressed his face in to his forearms.

Skips had heard the commotion after the ambulance had arrived. He was stood outside the room as Benson left. "So, why did you fire him?" He frowned, looking down at the gum-ball machine, who rolled his eyes.

"Look, I didn't fire him okay? I just suspended him without pay."

"That sounds like you fired him, to me." The yeti replied. " How's he going to eat?"

"He's got money. They don't earn much, I know, but what does he spend? They don't pay bills, rent, transport; heck they barely even pay taxes." Benson started on his way down the stairs. Skips followed. "Besides, maybe a sore stomach will make him think harder about things before goofing off like that." Skips could only respond with a slight grumble. He knew that Mordecai and Rigby were hard work, that they very rarely worked hard and that Benson's punishments hardly ever worked.

* * *

_Author's notes:_

_I'm pretty new here, but I've been writing this story for a couple of months already. I've posted links to the chapters on Pastebin via Tumblr before now. I also illustrate the chapters, usually one or two pictures per chapter, but since there are limits on how many images you can upload to , you wonderful people will have to check out my entries on Tumblr. My Tumblr name is the same as it is here, so it shouldn't be too hard to find. The story entries are tagged. I will continue to upload the next seven chapters here for completeness, even though they are already on Pastebin. Chapter 9 and onwards will be posted here too, with links to from Tumblr. If you follow my blog, you will receive the updates in all their visual glory, as well as other things that may or may not be fandom related! My blog is safe for work, so you won't have to worry about anything like that._

_-Sy_


	2. Chapter 2: My Sandwich for a Horse

Soda:

Chapter 2: My sandwich for a horse

A small, clawed foot scuffed through the dust, kicking up a tan-coloured cloud that slowly settled. The dry powder clung to his brown fur. "C'mon, Benson. Please take me with you." He pleaded, standing at the front of the communal house next to the cart. "I just want to see if he's okay." He sounded hopeful, trying to put on his most pleasant tone of voice.

"No, you've caused enough trouble as it is; and as you're suspended from the payroll, you don't have cart privileges." Benson's reply was flat and factual. Rigby begged for a little longer as his boss turned the key in the ignition.

"Please! I have to see if he's okay!"

"No, Rigby. Stay here." He demanded. "And don't do anything stupid. If you mess up, you're gone for good. We'll be back in a few hours."

"Well, what am I supposed to do til you get back?"

"Do what you did when I was paying you. Nothing." Benson was quite obviously still annoyed with the raccoon; and the continued accusations of laziness stung. Rigby fell silent, watching as the cart accelerated down the dirt road towards the park gates. He sighed and turned back towards the house, making his way to the kitchen. He rummaged through the cupboards, looking for ingredients for a sandwich. He knew that he was temporarily unemployed and that he would need to save his food, but at that moment he really needed something to comfort him; and nothing comforted a man in their early twenties like food.

He slowly assembled the stack of bread, meat and salad, savouring the look of every slice. He tried to take his mind off of his friend, now lying in agony with a broken foot and a concussion. He bit his bottom lip as he spread mayonnaise thickly over a third layer of pastrami. He blocked the image of Mordecai suffering from his mind, focusing on the mouthwatering meal he was preparing. The sandwich was going to fix it all, make it go away.

As he placed the final slice of bread on top, he looked down at the monstrous stack of food in front of him. Rigby didn't know exactly what had changed since he started its preparation, but all of a sudden, it seemed like a terrible idea. He slammed his fist down against the worktop, growling to himself. He glared at the sandwich, feeling that it was mocking him. He'd somehow allowed it to become a waste of his only remaining food, no use to anyone and destined to leave Rigby hungry for the week. "This is stupid!" He shouted. The sandwich didn't respond. "I'm stuck in this hole while Benson gets to go and see MY friend in hospital! Grrr!" His brow furrowed all the more. "What!? Don't you look at me like that!" He demanded, pointing at the wholemeal slice at the top of the stack.

"Uh, bro?" came a familiar husky voice from behind him. Rigby whirled around, embarrassed.

"O-oh, hi Muscleman." He smiled politely, though it was exceptionally forced.

"Why were you talkin' to that sandwich?" He seemed unsettled.

"Oh, I always... uh... talk to my food." He replied, prompting an eyebrow raise from the green man.

"No you-"

"So, this weather huh. Sunny." Rigby interrupted. Muscleman stood and stared, vexed.

"Whatever bro." As he turned to leave, Rigby caught his attention again.

"Hey, d'you want this sandwich?" He asked. Muscleman stopped and looked over his shoulder. He noticed how much effort had gone in to its creation. It wasn't at all like Rigby to selflessly offer him anything; or anyone else for that matter.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. No catch at all." He nervously laughed. Muscleman, despite his appearance, was not as dumb as Rigby hoped.

"Is there something you're not telling me bro?" He suddenly realised that something was odd about his friend being alone. "Where's Mordecai?" He peered around, "You guys better not be pranking me!" Rigby took some time to reply.

"Uhm. Mordecai's not here." He looked away, rubbing the back of his head anxiously.

"Where is he then, bro?" Muscleman folded his arms.

"I kinda... uh... hurt him... badly." He stammered, feeling the guilt come flooding back.

"And he's avoiding you; I get it." Rigby felt slightly bitter as Muscleman tried to put words in his mouth.

"No! He's not avoiding me! I put him in hospital, okay?!" He yelled. Muscleman didn't look phased by his outburst, but he did frown slightly as he heard the news.

"You put Mordecai in the hospital? What did you do?" Rigby tapped his foot in annoyance. He didn't want to have to explain the situation again.

"Look, do you want my sandwich or not?" He grumbled. Muscleman stared at him.

"Tell me what happened, first; then we'll talk about the sandwich."

"No!" He flared up yet again, stamping his foot this time.

"Woah, calm down, bro." Muscleman replied, not expecting so much anger. "I just wanna know if he's okay, jeez." Rigby pulled out a chair from under the kitchen table and slumped down in to it with a sigh.

"We were goofing off, and I..." He paused, staring at his knees as he started to kick his feet back and forth. "...I took it too far and-"

"Woah, took it too far?" He was interrupted again. He glared at his green colleague.

"Yes, Muscleman. I took it too far." He replied flatly. "Basically, he head-butted the wall and then got his foot stuck under my trampoline." He waited for Muscleman's reaction.

"Wait, that was it?" Rigby was surprised by the calm tone of his voice. "I thought you'd like, gutted him with a pencil or something."

"Wait, you're not like, surprised?" He raised one eyebrow, confused.

"No way bro. You guys do stupid junk all the time. What would surprise me is if you guys are still alive next year."

"Thanks." Rigby responded sarcastically after an awkward pause.

"So, why are you still here? I thought you guys were best bros." Muscleman asked, walking over to the fridge and retrieving the milk.

"Wait, we are bros, but Benson wouldn't let me go in the cart. They're over at the hospital now." He replied as Muscleman took several gulps straight out of the carton. He let out a satisfied sigh and wiped away his milk moustache.

"Why, bro? No seats? Who'd he take?"

"No, it's not that. I..." He thought about how to word it. "... I'm banned from using the cart."

"You got fired, didn't you?! I knew it!" He laughed obnoxiously as an evil grin surfaced.

"Dude, it's not funny!" Rigby growled, gnashing his teeth.

"Well, I'll make you a deal." He began. "I'll let you borrow Fives' sweet ride if you give me that sandwich."

"The hospital is all the way across town!" He groaned. "It'll take forever!"

"That's the offer, bro." Rigby thought about the deal. At least a scooter would be better than going on foot.

"Well, I was going to give you the sandwich anyway but-"

"Well, in that case, I get the sandwich, and your last two cans of soda." Yet again interrupting, Muscleman leaned casually against the fridge.

"What!? That wasn't the deal, man!" Rigby stood up on his chair, trying to look imposing.

"Take it or leave it, bro. I'm sure Mordecai would understand if you didn't wanna go 'n' see him."

"Alright fine, you can have the soda too." Rigby grumbled, scowling and folding his arms.

"Haw-yeah! UGH!" Muscleman celebrated, punching the air.

* * *

The duo arrived at the trailer that stood a way away from the house. "Okay, you gotta promise to bring it back in one piece, and no scratching the choice paint-job, bro. I worked really hard on it." Muscleman proclaimed as he opened the door and stepped inside.

"Don't worry, dude, I promise it'll be fine." Rigby tried to stay on his good side. The sarcastic comment from their earlier conversation made him wish he could have gone with the ambulance all the more. If he didn't go to see Mordecai, what sort of friend would that make him? He waited until Muscleman returned from the depths of his lair. The sandwich was sitting on a plate that Rigby held on to with both hands. "So, uh, Fives doesn't mind you letting me use his...ride?" He asked.

"Uh, well, no. I'm normally the one who rides it; on his behalf." The green guy replied, eventually surfacing, bearing the scooter. It was painted lime-green with bright red stripes. "So, whatcha think? Pretty sweet, huh." He stood proudly, holding it out for inspection. Again, trying to stay on his good side, Rigby smiled and nodded.

"Uh huh, it's great." He forced the words to pass his lips, while trying to keep back a groan. The bright sunlight glinted off of the glowing paint, leaving sharp after-images burned on his retinas. He tentatively handed over the sandwich to Muscleman, who accepted it with a grin. "The two other sodas are in our room, in a cooler." He added, lamenting the loss of yet another of the things that kept him happy.

* * *

Soon, Rigby left the gates of the park, setting off on his way to the hospital. He managed to lower the handlebars of the scooter, but even at their lowest setting his hands were still at head-height. That, coupled with the garish colours of the paintwork served to make him look and feel ridiculous. It was a gloriously sunny Friday afternoon, and most people were on their lunch break. Rigby avoided their eyes as he scooted past them, pushing quickly with one foot. He could hear a few of them sniggering as he went by, making him feel small and silly. He considered getting off of the scooter and leaving it in a safe spot so that he could walk, but he knew it would have taken a lot longer to get to the hospital; and he needed to keep a close eye on the scooter. If he lost it, he knew he would not have enough money to replace it.

Eventually he arrived at the entrance to the hospital. He looked up at the imposing glass and concrete structure; stretching several stories high and hundreds of yards across. "Ugh, it's going to take forever to find him in here." He grumbled, stepping down from the footplate of the scooter and folding it up. He slung it over his shoulder and wandered in to the infirmary. The doors slid open smoothly, without a sound. He was greeted by a neat and clean looking lobby, with the distinctive smell of disinfectant solution. He walked forward, looking around, eventually spotting the reception desk. He approached, standing at the foot of the desk and looking up. He could barely see the top of the receptionist's head, even standing on his toes. "Uhm, excuse me." He murmured, feeling nervous and out of place. When the older woman behind the desk did not reply, he cleared his throat before repeating himself. "Excuse me." He saw her look up, then around the room when she saw nobody stood in her line of sight. "Down here." She peered down, leaning over the desk slightly.

"Oh, hello there sonny." She beamed. "Do your parents know where you are? Are you lost?" She asked him, peeking over the top of her reading glasses.

"Lady, I'm twenty-three years old." Rigby frowned at her. She frowned back.

"Charming." She contained her anger at the way he had addressed her. "Sorry sir, it was your stature and choice of transport that threw my judgement." Her underhanded insult missed Rigby, leading to a slightly awkward pause. "So, is there anything I can help with today, sir?"

"I'm looking for a friend. He came here today in an ambulance. Have you seen him?" He asked, scratching his chest nervously. She stared.

"You'll have to give me more information than that sir." Her patience was already wearing thin.

"Information like what?" He asked, clueless.

"Your friend's name, sir." She sighed, leaning her head on her hand as she propped herself up on one elbow, sitting back down. Rigby blushed and felt stupid for forgetting such a fundamental thing. He told the receptionist Mordecai's name and his injuries. She typed the information in to her computer and sifted through the results on screen. "Yes, here we go. He's in the emergency ward." She gave Rigby the directions to the emergency wing of the hospital, saying not much else. He nodded without thanking. "You'll need to leave that behind." She said, as he went to leave. He frowned again, wordlessly passing High Five Ghost's scooter over the desk. She accepted it with a highly sarcastic and sugary-sweet "Thank you very much!" before waving with her finger tips. "Good luck finding your friend."

"Bleh bleh bleh-bleh bleh bleh." He mimicked her tone of voice with a sour expression before he turned and wandered down a corridor, glancing at signs as he passed them to ensure that he was headed in the right direction.

Eventually he reached the door to the ward, pushing it open timidly. He skulked in to the room, keeping his head low. He glanced around, looking for any signs that would lead him to Mordecai. He couldn't quite see where he was at first glance. His eyes passed over a man with a fish bowl stuck on his head forcing him to stifle some laughter. The man noticed and scowled, silencing the raccoon and making him scamper in to the room to avoid him. He looked every which way, but couldn't see Mordecai anywhere. He soon decided that he had taken a wrong turn and was about to leave when he heard the familiar voice of his boss. "Is that Rigby? I told him to wait back at the house!" Rigby panicked as he heard the man's metal feet clicking across the linoleum floor, turning to run. He was too slow, however, feeling a cool hand grasp at his shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?!" Benson spun him around on the spot, leaning down to glower at him. "I told you to stay back at the park, and you directly-"

"Get your hands off of him!" A new voice interrupted him, making his face flip from anger to surprise. "I said, get your hands off of him!" the voice repeated. Benson complied and stood up, turning around. A middle-aged woman was stood with her hands on her hips, her purse slung over her shoulder. She wore a floral dress and an expression of severity. Benson pressed his fingertips together, standing awkwardly and avoiding eye contact. "This is a hospital, young man. People here are injured or sick and they don't need you shouting at poor, defenceless young boys. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Ma'am I assure you that this man is not de-"

"Apologise to him at once!" She demanded. Benson could hear who he assumed to be the woman's son giggling from his bed.

"But-"

"And then you can apologise to the whole ward for causing this ghastly scene!" Benson stammered, feeling everyone's eyes boring in to him. He turned slowly to Rigby and muttered.

"I'm sorry."

"Like you mean it!" Her command made him jump slightly; the gumballs in his head rattling.

"I'm sorry Rigby." He swallowed his pride, looking up and surveying the ward. "I'm sorry everyone, I promise it won't happen again." Rigby was grinning smugly.

"That's much better." The woman said. Satisfied, she turned back to her son, who stopped laughing immediately.

Benson and Rigby walked silently towards Mordecai's bed. Skips was stood with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not a word; all of you." Benson hissed, throwing a cautionary glare at Rigby, before turning it on the yeti and the blue jay. "You've really stepped in it this time, Rigby."

"Aw lighten up, Benson. He's just concerned for his friend." Skips tried to defuse the situation; his tone was light-hearted and well-meaning. Benson was silent for the moment, looking between him and Rigby.

"Alright, look. Rigby, you disobeyed me, and I should be firing you right this second." He continued. Rigby looked at the floor, grinding his tiny foot in to the plastic. "However..." the raccoon looked up again, the first word of that sentence bringing slight relief to him. "...I'm going to make this a caution. This is your first warning. No more screw-ups." Skips nodded, deeming the ruling firm but fair. Rigby smiled.

"Yes, yes of course." He took a deep breath and sighed, finally relaxing.

He realised that Mordecai hadn't spoken the entire time. He looked over to his friend, who was propped up on top of the covers; several pillows supporting his shoulders. The blue jay had his arms folded and a menacing look on his face. "Hey, buddy." Rigby spoke quietly.

"Can it, you jerk." Mordecai's bluntness hurt him slightly. "Don't come in here and act all friendly and junk. I've been stuck here all day because of you. They want to keep me overnight and everything! Stupid concussion." He slouched down on the bed, staring at his broken foot, now encased in a plaster cast. "I've gotta walk on crutches for weeks til this heals too." His anger had a hint of melancholy, one that made Rigby feel guilty. He stepped over to Mordecai's side.

"I'm sorry man, really." He put his hand on his shoulder. Mordecai shrugged it off.

"No, Rigby I don't care. It's done already, and now I just want you to leave me alone." He looked away, pulling his arms even closer to his chest. Rigby stood with his mouth slightly agape, running the words through his mind for just a moment. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating and his breathing deepen. Seemingly out of nowhere, his anger reared up.

"Listen here, Mordecai!" The jay jumped, slumping over sideways to avoid an accusing finger that was pointed at his face. "I've been through too much today! Way too much!" Before he could retort, the raccoon continued on his tirade. "I got suspended from work; I'm earning no money; I gave away all of my food just so I could borrow Fives' scooter; and then I pushed myself all the way to this dump, just so I could be sure that you were okay!" Mordecai raised a hand and opened his mouth to reply. "No, shut it! I know you're hurt, and I'm sorry, okay!? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up and I'm sorry that I'm the world's worst friend." Mordecai's sorrowful expression betrayed the guilt that had poured from the raccoon and settled itself right in to the pit of his stomach. "I'm going home. Maybe I'll go through the garbage and see if Muscleman left any of my sandwich." He turned to leave, his shoulders bunched up and tense with anger.

"Rigby, wait. Come back." Mordecai sounded defeated, knocked off of his high horse for just a moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't know." Rigby turned around and slowly stalked back to the group. Mordecai limply held up a fist, offering it to the raccoon. He responded in kind, slowly bumping their knuckles together. It brought them both back down to stability.

They were quiet for a while, reflecting on what had been said. Eventually, Mordecai turned his head to face Benson. "So, you suspended him? For that?" He asked, looking confused. "We were just goofin' off." Benson sighed.

"That's not the point. You're going to be laid up for the next few weeks with your broken foot and stuff. I still have to pay you, or it'll look bad on all of us. If you can't work, that's just money that Mr. Maelard will miss, considering it's not paying for jobs." Mordecai didn't seem impressed by his reasoning.

"Yeah, but now Rigby's got no money." He complained.

"Well, I had to make sure I got my message across." He replied, folding his arms defensively.

"Uh-huh, and what message is that?" Mordecai's brow furrowed. Benson lost his composure slightly.

"Not to do it again." He glared for a second. "Also, don't talk back to me like that."

"It was an accident, Benson." Skips joined in, drawing their attention. "It won't happen again." Benson looked around the room for a moment, trying to think of how to reply. He knew that if Skips had an opinion about something, it was normally based on strong evidence; or at least a well-honed gut-feeling.

"Okay, okay. It might not happen again. You're still suspended from work, though." He pointed at Rigby, who scowled.

"Alright, alright. But if I help out Mordecai while he's injured, will you consider hiring me again?" He reasoned. Benson thought about it for a moment, looking to Skips for a sign. The yeti shrugged.

"...Okay. I don't see why not."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_Chapter 2 of a fan fiction I've been working on for a little while. It's probably going to be a little awkward transitioning from the Tumblr/Pastebin format I was using before. I will continue to upload images for each chapter, so don't forget to go follow my Tumblr to witness this terrible story in all its glory._

_I felt like the writing was picking up a little by the end of this chapter. I focused a lot harder on the dialogue here; and it's mostly how the story progresses. I became a Regular Show fan mostly due to the dialogue in the episodes, so I'm trying my hardest to keep everyone in character! Do tell me what you think._

_-Sy_


	3. Chapter 3: Bad Vibes

Chapter 3: Bad vibes

As visiting hours came to a close, Benson, Skips and Rigby said their goodbyes to Mordecai. "I'll be back, first thing tomorrow morning, okay man?" Rigby promised, glad that they had resolved their differences. He hated it when Mordecai was upset with him, so he would do anything to ensure that it was put right. The blue jay smirked and slapped his hand against the raccoon's cheek, pushing him away.

"You're such a soppy loser, Rigby." He chuckled as Rigby lashed out playfully, punching him in the shoulder. They bumped fists once more, then Rigby followed Benson and Skips out of the ward.

They walked silently in a row for a while, with Skips in the middle. "I'm glad you guys stopped all the yelling." He spoke up in his distinct gravelly tones. "It was giving me really bad vibes." Rigby raised an eyebrow. Benson tried not to laugh, but failed in holding it back.

"Bad vibes huh." He snorted as he caught his breath.

"Yeah, bad vibes." He replied, apparently failing to see the funny side of it.

"I know you're the spiritual type, Skips, but there were no "bad vibes". I was just doing my job." He rubbed his eye while smiling.

"I know, Benson, but I don't like it when you guys all fight like that. What's the point of it?" He looked between them both, hoping they had an answer. Rigby spoke first, but uncertainly.

"It's just us working stuff out, ya know." He shrugged, unsure of his answer himself.

"Yeah, I know Rigby. You guys argue a whole lot sometimes, but this time it felt different." Benson and Rigby were silent for a moment.

"Different how?" Benson asked.

"I don't know, Benson, but I felt really uneasy back there. You guys should just chill out for the time being, til I figure out what it was that I felt." They continued on their way back to the cart in silence. Rigby and Benson were both slightly spooked. If Skips had a hunch, it normally meant something serious.

* * *

Soon, they were in the cart, pulling out of the parking lot. "Look, all I'm saying is, you need to think a little more before you act." Benson continued. "You're not a screw-up, Rigby; I'm sorry I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes. Can you understand how frustrating managing you two can be, though?" He asked, hoping to find some middle ground. Rigby watched the pedestrians on the pavement as they drove past. "Rigby?" Benson asked, unsure if he was listening.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah." He sighed.

"So, you do know how frustrating it is?" Benson

"Yeah." He stretched and yawned.

"Are you even listening to me?" Benson's temper was rising.

"Yeah."

"Rigby! Listen to me when-" He started to glow his usual angry shade of red.

"Benson! Stop!" Skips jumped in to stop it escalating any further. They remembered what he had said to them before they left the hospital. Silence reigned again for just a moment.

"I'm hungry." Rigby spoke up, not having eaten since breakfast.

"Do you have any money for food?" Benson asked.

"No." The raccoon looked across at his employer and scowled. "I don't."

"Well, maybe you should find a job." The man's voice sounded slightly venomous. Rigby was about to retaliate with heated words of his own, but Skips silenced him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey!" He pulled the situation in, neutralising it again. "We sorted this out already. I'm serious; something isn't right here, so just hold fire til I figure it out." The warning was consistent, so they kept their mouths shut. "Let's pull over, I'm hungry too. I'll buy."

After Benson had parked the cart, they climbed out, heading towards a diner. "...and I want curly fries. No! Chilli-cheese fries! And a large soda, make sure it's not diet; and a jelly donut, frosted; and..." Rigby was thinking of all of the glorious junk food that awaited him. He wanted to eat it all, his stomach sore from not having anything since breakfast. It was late afternoon, but the summer sun was still high in the cloudless sky.

"Rigby, Skips isn't made of money." Benson warned, hoping that Rigby wouldn't take advantage of his generous offer too much.

"Relax Benson, I'm letting Rigby order what he wants; he's been through a lot today." Skips smiled. "Besides, that sounds like a good order; I'll have what he's having." Benson was miffed about being undermined, always clinging to his authority as though it were the only thing keeping him afloat.

"I don't think you should spoil him, Skips. It's not like you owe him anything."

"You're right." He replied. Rigby looked downtrodden.

"Oh..." He sighed, watching the gratuitous treats fade away in his mind.

"I don't owe Rigby anything. But he's a friend, and I want to buy him something to eat." Rigby perked up again, smirking at his boss. Benson huffed and looked away feeling slightly angry, but containing himself. Skips couldn't help but chuckle at Benson's reaction. No matter how he tried to disguise his anger, the colour change within his head was a sure indicator of his mood. "Lighten up, Benson. It's not like I give him food every day, is it?" Skips slapped him on the shoulder jovially.

"That's not the point." He grumbled, but he knew that it would be pointless trying to convince the yeti. "Okay, whatever. But just this one time, okay?" Benson gave in, not wanting his lesson to be wasted on the raccoon.

"Yeah, yeah..." Skips rolled his eyes as they entered the establishment. It was styled like an old 1950s diner; stainless steel everywhere. They found a booth by one of the large windows that looked out on to the parking lot.

They surveyed the menus, idly chatting amongst themselves to pass the time before a waitress came to serve them. "Hello sirs, may I take your order?" She beamed, readying a tiny flip-book and a pen. Benson took a breath to speak up, but Rigby cut him off.

"Yeah I'll have chilli-cheese fries, a double-bacon-cheeseburger... No, two double-bacon-cheeseburgers, no veggies; uh, an ice-cream sundae, onion rings and a chocolate milkshake." He unashamedly closed his menu and smiled up at the waitress. He had forgotten his manners, as per usual, but she seemed to be used to it.

"Sure!" The waitress appeared to be exceptional at faking her emotions. Benson went to start talking again, but Skips took the lead.

"And I'll have what he's having." He motioned to Rigby. She wondered how they would fit all of the food on their small table, but she knew that the order was far more realistic for someone of Skips' size. Rigby, she was sure would waste at least half of his. Benson tried not to lose his cool as he noticed Rigby wink to Skips, who grinned.

"And, I'll have a deli-wrap with a salad. Diet lemonade as well, please." He gritted his teeth slightly as his mood slowly returned to its neutral state.

"Aw, c'mon Benson, live a little!" Rigby protested. "Skips is buyin'!" Benson glared at him across the table.

"Yes, but unlike you, I don't take advantage." Rigby folded his arms defiantly.

"Just cuz you can't handle your food! Hmm-hmm!" He leered across the table. Benson growled.

"You are just trying to get me annoyed, aren't you? Well, guess what! It's working!" He stood up, slamming his hands down on the table. Their waitress jumped back with a squeal, defending herself with her notebook. Skips nudged his shin with his foot under the table.

"Benson," He hissed, "sit down." He urged him to take his seat again. The last thing he wanted was to be ejected from the restaurant. The mechanical man continued.

"No, I've had it! I've had it up to my gum-balls with you Rigby! You are insufferable and I can't stand you!" He panted, his body heaving up and down as the pent-up rage. "Since day one you have done nothing but drag me down! I feel years older than I actually am, and it's all because you can only think about yourself!" Rigby looked away awkwardly, staring at a fork on the table. Though he very rarely showed it around his boss, Benson's rants did make him feel guilty. He recalled the time when he was reduced to tears on a road-trip and felt the familiar sting in his stomach. Benson's hateful gaze was burning a hole in Rigby's head.

"I-it was just a joke; okay? I'm sorry Benson." He muttered.

"No! No, it's not "okay"! It's not "a joke"!" He yelled, leaning over the table and invading his personal space. "I have had enough! Enough!" He emphasised, slamming his hands on the table once more before throwing them in to the air. He turned and left the booth, stepping towards the terrified waitress as though she were no longer present. "You had your chance and you blew it!" He continued, turning to face the raccoon again. Skips stood up and made a grab for his friend's shoulders in an attempt to calm him down, but Benson was on the warpath. He leaned to the side to maintain eye contact with Rigby. "You're fired! Fired! No more suspension, no chance of appeal! Got that?! You're gone, Rigby! Out! You can go and find a new place to live!" His words made Rigby freeze. He stammered, his eyes wide with fear and sudden realisation.

"N-now wait a minute! Let's not be so harsh about... this." His voice petered off, Benson's murderous expression telling him everything he needed to know. He stood up silently to leave, feeling smaller and smaller by the second. Skips was frowning disapprovingly at his boss.

"Don't." He warned Rigby. Rigby stayed where he was, wondering exactly why he was being so defiant. "Stay there. You're not at work here, this is public." Benson prickled with anger as Skips sided with the subject of his hatred.

"Hah! excuse me?" He said with mock surprise.

"Benson, I think you're making a mistake, and I don't support it." The yeti's voice was level and certain, as always. "Think about it." He advised; though his tone made it more of a command.

"I have thought about it! I think about it every day! I want him gone. No more chances, no more excuses, no more mooching for a free place to stay!" Benson hissed. "I should have known that you would pick his side! 'Oh, poor Rigby...!'" He mocked, "'He can't look after himself, so I'll do it...!'" Rigby growled.

"Hey! I can-too take care of myself!" He managed to muster up the courage to defend his honour; at least for the time being, with a wall of solid muscle protecting his physical body. "You just don't like raccoons!" He accused. Benson laughed.

"What, so I'm racist now? Just because I fired a lazy, good-for-nothing loser for not doing their job right?" He clenched his fists, raising his arms slightly. Skips grumbled and moved his hands from Benson's shoulders to his elbows, pulling his arms back towards a more neutral position. "Skips, I strongly advise that you let go of me right this second."

"Or what, you'll fire me too?" He stayed perfectly still, staring the gum-ball machine down.

"If that's what it takes." Benson held his ground. He deliberated every syllable to stress the gravity of his warning. Though he was dwarfed by Skips, he was not scared of him. They stared for what felt like forever, before Skips dared to break the silence.

"Then I quit." He let Benson go and turned to walk out of the diner, leaving him and Rigby behind. Rigby felt vulnerable now that his only defence had left, quickly resolving to scamper after him on all fours. As he reached the front door, which was swinging closed as Skips made his way across the parking lot, he heard Benson scream with frustration. He quickly darted out before the door closed and caught up with Skips.

"Wait!" He yelled before he pulled up alongside him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to pack my stuff." He grumbled decidedly.

"Wait, you're moving out?" Rigby seemed panicked.

"Yes, I'm leaving." Skips stated, continuing on his way out of the parking lot and on to the sidewalk.

"But where will you go?" Rigby sounded worried. Skips was the go-to guy for all of their problems; his level head and wealth of knowledge had saved their jobs and their lives on countless occasions. Rigby could not think how they would carry on without his guidance.

"Anywhere." Skips kept up his pace, forcing Rigby to scamper alongside on all fours.

"But you can't! We need you, man!" With Skips leaving, Rigby wondered if he would ever get his job back at all. "Please don't go, Skips! I need your help!" The yeti did not reply, grumbling and picking up speed. Rigby was left behind; his tiny limbs no match for the muscles of his ex-colleague. He slowed down to a stop, whining in the hopes that Skips would change his mind, but it was no use. Skips disappeared around the street corner, leaving him behind on the pavement.

* * *

Benson was stood face to face with the manager of the diner, apologising profusely as the waitress sobbed pathetically behind the counter. "I've just been having a really rough time of things recently and I meant no disrespect to your staff or your establishment. I am sorry, sir." He tried to make his regret sound legitimate, but the manager was having none of it.

"A rough time of things? That's no excuse to shout at my employees and make them cry! Poor Maureen is threatening to quit her job, all because of you!" He was red in the face, angry beyond reason. It was like staring in to a fleshy, balding mirror.

"Wait, what? I said nothing to her! She was just present when I had to discipline my own employees." Benson tried to keep his temper under control. A frivolous lawsuit was the last thing he needed, on top of losing half of his staff members through some mishap or other.

"That's not the way she tells it!" The manager proceeded, growling as he met resistance.

"Well, then I am sorry to say it, sir, but it appears that Maureen apparently has a problem with her short-term memory!" He lost his cool, wondering why everyone was against him today. "All she did was stand there and shake like a leaf! Nobody shouted at her, nobody did anything but order from her."

"Then why is she so upset? Surely someone must have said something!" The manager threw his arms out to the sides, as if casting out a net to trawl up an answer.

"As I said, I don't know."Benson put emphasis on every word, hoping that his frustration would show. It seemed to work. The manager put his lightly clenched fist up to his mouth, pressing his lips against his index finger. He thought for a moment, looking the gum-ball machine up and down. The silence was nerve-wracking, but it soon passed.

"I'll tell ya what." He began, removing the fist from his chin and turning it in to a pointed finger which he wagged in Benson's general direction. "I'll see if I can't iron all this out." He turned to Maureen, who had stopped sobbing, now mopping her eyes on her apron. "If you write out a check for fifty bucks, I'll let you go and give you half-off on all orders at the weekends. If not, then you'll be hearing from my lawyer."He smiled, hoping that the offer would suffice. Benson did not see it as fairly as the manager did.

"Fifty dollars? Are you joking?" He shook with impending rage, but managed to catch himself before he opened the door to an assault charge. The manager folded his arms.

"Take it or leave it. It probably wouldn't cover the court costs, so it's kind of a bargain, if you think about it. Plus, think of all the great times you'll have here in future!" His advertising tone wound Benson up to the point of distraction, but he had far too much more to worry about, without a crooked businessman breathing down his neck.

"Okay, fine. Fifty bucks." He retrieved his check-book and slapped it down on to the counter. "But not because you deserve it. I just don't want to get sued." He glared at the manager, then at Maureen, who had a sickly sweet grin on her face. "Do you have a pen?"

* * *

Rigby was exhausted, walking slowly down the road towards the park. "Auuugh." He groaned, his feet aching as they pounded the concrete. "I'm tired. My feet hurt. I want my cheeseburger." He waited for the familiar voice of his friend to reply, to knock some sense in to him.

"Stop whining dude, I'll order a pizza or something when we get back." Mordecai would have said, if he wasn't still in hospital. Rigby looked up at where his face would have been, seeing only the orange and purple glow of the clouds as the sun set over the city. He slouched in disappointment, letting the image of the sky calm him for a moment.

"Man, could this day get any worse?" He asked himself. He was interrupted when he walked straight in to someone's leg; their knee catching him in the chest. "Oof! Watch it, you jerk!" He bared his teeth and turned to face the obstruction.

"What are you talking about, kid?" The barrier snarled, peering down at him. Rigby shrunk back at the confrontation. "You should look where you're going in future. You don't know who you could run in to in a city like this. You're lucky your teeth didn't dig in; I'd be angry if you gave me rabies." The tall figure folded his arms, the silver polyester jacket rustling as he did so. Rigby did not reply, even after the underhanded comment about his species. This newcomer was imposing, and potentially very dangerous indeed. He scowled, his eyebrows furrowed and cast shadows over his eyes; which were surrounded with bright red painted borders. The red contrasted sharply with the parallel black and white stripes of the short fur on his long snout. "So are you just going to stand there, or do I get an apology?" Rigby could not place his accent; somewhere European, of that he was sure. The exact country escaped him. He noted the flag that was sewn on to the upper left arm of the silver jacket; black over red over gold. Never before had he wished that he had studied geography harder in school, until that moment.

"Look, man. I'm sorry, I've just had a really, really bad day, and I'm just trying to get home so I can-"

"That is not my problem, you ignorant rat." The badger cracked his knuckles before reaching in to his jacket. His expression put Rigby in mind of various action movies and cop shows. He was going to get destroyed in the most stylishly violent manner possible. He was absolutely certain.

"Dude, please don't hurt me! Please! I've got...well I've not got money, but you can have my wallet! I left it in my room, but... You can have... uh..."He had nothing to bargain with, so he held his hands above his head in an attempt to shield himself. He closed his eyes and screamed. "Please don't hurt me!" He heard something metallic flick open; a harsh clicking noise. His killer held a switchblade; he could see it in his mind's eye. He whimpered and waited to feel the cold steel between his ribs, shaking on the spot. The tension was all too much, building and building. He just wanted it to be over. If he was going to die, he wanted it to happen quickly. He was brought back down to Earth when he felt warm breath puff against his face, accompanied by the bitter, choking smell of tobacco smoke. He coughed and looked up with one eye open. "Huh? Ahh!" He jumped back with a yell, falling back on to his rear. The man's face was dangerously close to his own; sharp, menacing teeth shining as he grinned evilly. Rigby blushed, feeling stupid about his outburst; this man wasn't going to kill him at all. Not yet, anyway.

"What's your name?" He asked, taking another drag on the cigarette between two of his fingers. Rigby stood up and brushed himself off, inspecting him thoroughly. The badger wore a pair of jeans, marked with small holes all the way down. His grey fur was easily visible, as he did not wear a shirt under his jacket. He wore a pair of red-tinted flying goggles around his neck, and his striking mess of black hair was streaked with an equally searing shade of scarlet.

"Rigby." He replied. The badger smirked and chuckled, raising one eyebrow.

"Rigby? What the hell kinda name is that?" He held the smoke before blowing it in the short one's direction again. "Did your mother sneeze when they asked her to spell it?"

"Stop talking!" Rigby shouted, tensing up all over. "My name is great! What's your name, then?! I bet it's something dumb, coming from...Uh...France or whatever." He pointed a finger, trying to make himself look big; but the badger doubled over with laughter at the sight of it.

"Pfft-hahaha! You're such a tool! France?! Ha!" He snorted as he caught his breath, wheezing slightly as he calmed down. He flicked some of the ashes off of his cigarette, letting them land in Rigby's hair. The raccoon squealed in frustration, resisting the urge to lash out, in case this man was indeed as dangerous as he looked. The badger wiped at his eye with the side of a finger, stopping a tear from cascading down his cheekbone, minutely smudging the crimson paint. He managed to bring his chuckle under control enough to speak again. "I'm Anders." He took another quick drag of smoke and dropped the butt on to the floor. He stepped it out with the sole of an ankle-high boot. "And it's Germany, you idiot."

* * *

_Author's notes:_

_I know some of you may be quick to dismiss Anders as a self-insert or a Mary Sue (or Gary Stu) or whatever it is you trendy cats are calling it now days, but hear him out. Though he may act as an axis to swing a few plot devices from, I will still be writing from Mordecai and Rigby's perspectives for the most part. Anders first came to mind as a suitable antagonist for this little story, though it took me a few more chapter to set the finer points of his biography in stone. His backstory will come to light eventually and his involvement will be pivotal in the later parts that I have planned, but the way I see it, he's not really the main character, so to speak._


	4. Chapter 4: Visiting Hours

Soda:

Chapter 4: Visiting hours

He looked down at the plaster cast which surrounded a skinny, black foot. He turned his attention to the finely feathered blue hand, inspecting the dark rings on his fingers and the shimmer cast upon him by the mid-morning sunlight. "Sir, would you like anything to eat? I can fetch you a sandwich from the kitchens if you would like?" Asked a nurse. Mordecai snapped out of his introversion.

"Wha- huh? Oh..." He looked up at her, stretching a little. He winced as his neck and shoulders popped. "...Uh, yeah. That'd be nice, thanks." He forced a smile. His hunger was nauseating and the wait for his friend led to boredom, which compounded the issue. A sandwich would be everything he needed to occupy his time and make him feel better.

"Would a cheese sandwich be to your liking, sir?" The nurse asked him, keeping the offer fairly simple.

"Oh, yeah, thanks." He added a nervous chuckle on to the end, hoping that she would leave. She eventually bustled away, asking the same question to the next patient along. Mordecai sighed, scratching behind his head. The bandage around his cranium made his skin itch, frustrating him to no end. "It was only a bump to the head..." He muttered to himself. "What is a bandage even going to do?" He mulled the question over, as if expecting an answer. When he couldn't find one, he moved on to his next question. "C'mon Rigby, where are you?" He peered over at the door to the ward, leaning up to adjust his angle, looking past another patient who was obstructing his view. He waited for a moment, but nobody entered. He huffed and settled back down in to his bed, folding his arms.

Soon, the nurse returned with his sandwich. "Sir, your food is ready." Mordecai perked up slightly, sitting up a little more against the bedstead. He gratefully accepted the plate she was holding and smiled.

"Thanks." He muttered.

"No problem. Hope you enjoy it." She walked to the foot of his bed and inspected the chart that hung from the metal frame. Mordecai took a bite of his snack as the nurse surveyed the clipboard. "Hm, it says here that you're free to go after a final check-up." She flipped the sheet at the front to check for any other details, but found none. "You seemed fine all night, so that bump to the head wasn't as bad as it first appeared. The doctor will be along in a few minutes to give you a quick assessment, then we can sign you out."

"That's great news, thanks." Mordecai took another bite of his sandwich and nodded to the nurse in appreciation. She nodded in reply and turned to leave.

He continued to eat his sandwich, wondering exactly where Rigby was. He wasn't entirely surprised that he wasn't on time, but it hurt just the same. He sighed and finished his food, inspecting the tips of his toes that were exposed at the end of his cast. He wished that his foot hadn't been broken, so he could kick the raccoon right in the fork of his legs; but as he thought about it, he realised that with no broken leg he wouldn't have been in the hospital in the first place. He made a mental note to find some other way of getting back at Rigby. He put his plate down on the side table next to his bed and waited patiently for the doctor to arrive.

It was then that Rigby barrelled through the door. He scampered across the ward on all four limbs and stood up next to Mordecai's bed. "You're late." The blue jay complained, sounding stern, yet again with his arms crossed.

"I know man, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry dude!" Rigby put on a melodramatic tone of voice, acting out his words with wide hand gestures and sorrowful eyes. "I got some legit reasons though, man. I promise!" Mordecai scowled for a moment, weighing up the value of what he had said.

"Hm-okay. What sorta reasons?" He kept his arms folded, hoping that Rigby's excuses weren't going to be as pitiful as they normally were. Rigby shuffled a little on the spot, scratching one ear with a finger. He took a breath in. It was going to be a long story.

"Well, there I was, walking back to the house, when I ran in to some crazy-looking dude..."

* * *

"Germany huh. Sounds... nice." He smiled hopefully.

"You don't know a thing about Germany, do you?" Anders tipped his head to the side as he spoke flatly.

"I know that uh. Uhm. Wait a minute..." Rigby thought for a moment, stroking his chin.

"I knew it." The badger muttered to himself.

"...Yeah. You guys were those guys that started that thing!" Rigby jabbed a finger in to the air in triumph.

"That thing? Oh yeah. The thing." Anders sighed. "I remember that thing as if it were yesterday."

"See I know something about Germany. Hmm-hmm-hmm!" Rigby jibed.

"Dummkopf." Anders pressed on his closed eyes with a thumb and forefinger. The insult passed right over the raccoon's head.

"So, uh, what're you doing stateside?" He asked.

"What, so, because I'm from outside the US, I'm not allowed to be here?" Anders was becoming increasingly frustrated with Rigby's presence.

"That's what the guy on the news said last night." The raccoon said with a shrug. Anders stared with a questioning look.

"Unglaublich." He uttered sarcastically.

"What? He did." Rigby's ignorance was grating, but Anders couldn't bring himself to walk away. He felt that there was some entertainment to be had. He thought for a moment, formulating the start of a plan. The rest he would play by ear.

"Yeah, well, you caught me." The badger leaned in close, whispering: "I'm actually a spy from Russia. I'm undercover as a tourist from Germany so as not to arouse suspicion." He stood up again with a satisfied smile as Rigby gasped dramatically.

"You're a spy!?"

"Yeah, I am. But as you probably guessed, being undercover is useless when someone knows." Rigby stepped back as a horrible sensation crawled up his spine. "I'm going to have to kill you now." Rigby panicked and turned to flee, screaming as he ran. Anders laughed heartily as he watched the raccoon skitter away across the pavement.

Rigby heard the badger snort as he tried to catch his breath. He turned around as he felt the panic quickly subside; replaced by anger and embarrassment. He stomped over, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline. "Y-you! Shut up! Shut up!" He yelled, his arms tensed up by his sides. Anders laughed even louder as he saw the tiny man trying to assert himself. Rigby was shaking as he tried to make himself seem more menacing. "Dude that's not cool! Quit it!" His shouting sounded more like whining as his voice peaked.

"What, you gonna cry about it?" Anders laughed all the more, slapping himself across the knee.

"Stop talking!" Rigby yelled, pointing at the badger threateningly.

"Or what?" Anders sniggered as his laughter started to calm. He reached for another cigarette.

"Or I'll... I'll... AAARGH!" Rigby screamed in utter frustration, frowning at him. Anders laughed again, prompting Rigby to walk around him. He just wanted to get home and pack his things before Benson got back. The badger put a hand on his chest.

"Whoa where are you going? I thought we were hitting it off." He lit up his cigarette, flicking open his lighter with his free hand.

"Hitting it off?! Hitting it off?! You threatened to kill me and then passed it off as a joke!" Rigby seemed offended, though his foul mood stemmed mostly from being made a fool out of.

"You really don't have a sense of humour, do you." It was less of a question, more of a statement. It irritated the raccoon to no end.

"No sense of humour!? That wasn't funny, end of story. You are just a... a..." He thought of a suitable insult. "...a butt!" He felt his conscience grimace in pity at his poor and embarrassing choice of words. Anders tittered once more, holding back his laughter a mite this time. He streamed cigarette smoke out of his nostrils.

"Look, little man; no hard feelings, 'kay?" Rigby's brow furrowed and his lips pursed; illustrating his seething anger. He opened his mouth to retort, but his rumbling stomach spoke for him. He felt a slight wave of nausea take over as he was reminded of his impending starvation. He looked at his feet, patting his belly with one hand. They were silent for a moment, before Anders spoke up. "Hey, are you hungry? I was just going to go and get a hot-dog. I'll buy." Rigby wondered why he had suddenly made the offer; thinking that he was just going to make him in to a punch-line once more. His hunger acted as an override to his thoughts, however; so he wisely kept his mouth closed from that moment on. It was free food, after all. He nodded, keeping an eye on Anders, lest he try anything dangerous or stupid. The badger smiled in return, his face taking on a more jovial appearance for the first time since they had met. "Let's go then..." He continued on his way, waiting for Rigby to follow. Rigby simply kept him in his eye-line, turning to face him as he passed. Anders stopped for a second and frowned a little, slightly confused. "...C'mon, let's go already." He started walking again. Rigby cautiously followed.

They walked in relative silence for a while, before Rigby spoke up. "Sorry I freaked out back there. I'm normally cool, I swear." He felt the need to explain himself, even though he knew it to be an excuse. He hated to look stupid in public; though he did so on a regular basis. Anders chuckled and dropped his second cigarette butt on to the sidewalk; stepping on it as they walked.

"Uh-huh, I'm sure you're cool." Rigby growled under his breath at the badger's sarcastic comment. Anders laughed at his reaction and reached in to his jacket pocket to retrieve his cigarette packet, only to find that it was empty. He grumbled and tossed the packet over a wrought iron fence that they were adjacent to. It was the park fence.

"Hey!" Rigby yelled. "Couldn't you have put that in the trashcan?" He crossed his arms and put on a sour expression.

"I've not got the time to bother with stuff like that. The whole world is my trashcan." Anders tucked his hands in to his pockets and tipped his head back defiantly.

"Dude, we just walked past a trashcan. Look, there's another one, like five feet away." Rigby pointed at the approaching bin. Anders shrugged.

"So what?" He looked down at the shorter man, raising an eyebrow. Rigby stared back, maintaining eye contact with as much seriousness as he could muster.

"So? It's our city, and we gotta look after it." He could barely believe the words had left his mouth.

"Uh-huh." Anders added, not quite believing the apparent sincerity and care that the raccoon felt towards his hometown.

"...Okay, alright! I work at the park, okay? I just don't wanna clean up your garbage!" Rigby felt slightly offended that this man, almost a stranger, had violated his workplace. Anders laughed at him again, making him silently fume.

"Oh, so it was you that I saw?" He didn't apologise for littering. "I thought I knew you from somewhere." Anders started flicking his lighter open and closed; adding a rhythm to a growing array of annoyances. Rigby groaned as his frustration mounted. "Working at the park huh? Totally cool. I mean, you're probably the coolest guy I ever met." The sarcasm wasn't even subtle. Rigby thought he heard something snap in his brain.

"Shut it!" He raged, throwing his arms up in to the air. He held himself back from throwing a punch, knowing that it probably wouldn't end well for him if he did.

"Ha! Or what?" Anders was casually malicious; as though his own sense of humour didn't occur to him as bullying. Rigby was noticing the pattern quickly, but something about the man made him feel competitive. He was going to prove his worth to Anders. He was going to be cool.

"Or..." He thought for a moment, "... I'd be scared of sleeping tonight, if I were you." He relaxed, putting on a carefree face, with a hint of a threat in his voice. A smug grin passed his lips for just a moment as he waited for Anders to take the bait.

"Seriously. I'm to believe that you are some sort of...ninja warrior, or something? Pfft-ha!" Rigby lost his cool façade immediately, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Stop talking!" He panted as he vented his anger.

"You're going to have to try much harder than that." Rigby growled as Anders spoke. He wondered whether the free hot-dog was worth all of this torment. "Ah yeah, you work with someone else, don't you? He's pretty hard to miss, to be honest. Blue guy, looks like a real nerd. Long face." Rigby didn't respond, walking with his arms tensed straight down by his sides and the corners of his mouth turned down to match. "Yeah, that guy looks even cooler than you; and that's saying a whole lot." Anders continued with an inflection that could rattle even the most peaceful of souls.

"Take that back!" He tried to channel his anger to add weight to his words; but it just made him sound desperate. "Mordecai isn't cooler than me!"

"Mordecai, huh? That's a pretty cool name if you ask me. Way better than Rigby." Anders checked his fingernails nonchalantly, waiting for an inevitable outburst. He barely saw it coming.

* * *

"Hold on a sec," Mordecai spoke up, "this actually happened? Or are you just trying to find weird ways of saying I'm cool, so I won't be mad for you being late?"

"Don't interrupt me, man." Rigby scowled.

"I'm just saying, dude, your imaginary friends are getting weirder and weirder." The blue jay prodded the raccoon in the shoulder, knocking him back a smidge. "Are you sure this guy is real?"

"Don't, man. Don't." Rigby glared.

"Haha! Alright, alright. Don't get your panties all twisted."

"Grrr, just let me tell the story, kay?" He growled.

"Hmm-hmm-hmm!" he smirked triumphantly.

* * *

"Rrragh!" Rigby had had enough. He leapt from the ground and landed on top of Anders' shoulders, tugging hard at his red and black bangs and screaming in to his ears. The badger was caught off guard, not expecting the physical attack that he had provoked. "Stop. Saying. Stuff. About. Me!" He emphasised every single word, punctuating it with sharp yanks on the man's hair.

"Wha?! Damn it, get off of me!" He shook his entire body in an attempt to dislodge the enraged raccoon that was now trying to claw his eyes out, smudging the red paint across his cheeks. He yelled in pain and surprise, grabbing at Rigby and throwing him off of his back. Rigby slammed in to the floor, skidding to a halt. Anders was leaning forwards with his hands on his knees for support. He tried to calm himself, assessing his condition. His eyes were fine, so far as the fact that he could still see with them both. They stung fiercely, the eyelids slightly swollen, leading him to squint. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" Anders shouted as Rigby slowly stood up on his shaking legs. "I was only joking, you psycho!" He bared his teeth and growled, coping with the burning sensation that haunted his face. He pressed a palm against one of his eyes, rubbing gently in an attempt to ease the pain. When he brought it away from his face, he saw the red smudges clinging to his short fur. He was surprised at how glossy it was. His makeup was not glossy. Anders stood up straight and blinked, hoping he wasn't seeing what he thought he was seeing. He cursed out loud with such ferocity that Rigby left the ground, jumping back in defence. "Am I bleeding!?" He snarled as he pointed to his face, waiting for Rigby's answer. Rigby approached slowly, his arms held up in front of him as a precaution. Anders seemed unpredictable and dangerous. He hoped that he hadn't made an enemy of him.

"Dude, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He was on the verge of panic, thinking through ways of defusing the situation.

"Am. I. Bleeding?" He repeated, stepping forwards and leaning down to make eye contact. Rigby squirmed under his imposing gaze, leaning back to put as much space as possible between their faces.

"Ehhh-yeah." He squeaked, readying his guard, in case Anders were to lash out in retaliation. He closed his eyes, waiting for the death-blow. Back to square one.

"Nice." He sounded impressed. Rigby opened his eyes and looked up at him. He was stood upright, smiling.

"...Excuse me?" Rigby raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Yeah man, you're pretty ferocious. I thought you were never going to stand up for yourself." He reached in to a pocket and produced a pack of adhesive bandages, along with a small roll of medical tape.

"You're kidding, right?" Rigby relaxed for a moment as Anders tried to locate the small cut on his brow.

"No, little man. That was pretty brutal." He beamed his menacing smile, but Rigby could tell that his good mood was genuine.

"So you're totally cool with me just attacking you?" He wondered who, in their right mind, could go from a rage to seemingly good-natured in such a short time.

"I was kinda pushing you to see how far you would go; so I guess I deserved it." He finished applying the sticking plaster to his face, wincing a little as it stung. Rigby relaxed, knowing that it was all just some sort of game to him. His relief was short-lived though; as the badger added with a joking, yet oddly sinister tone: "But if you attack me without warning again..." He patted Rigby on the back in a friendly manner. "...I'll kill you." Rigby laughed nervously.

"Huh huh... you bet. Noted." Rigby grinned awkwardly, waiting for the badger to remove his hand from his shoulder. He could feel his heart beating in his throat.

"So, how about that hot-dog? I know a great little diner near here; 50s-styled. I think you'll like it." He continued walking the road towards the diner; the one that Rigby had walked all the way home from.

"Wait, you're going all the way up there? I just came from back there, man! It's miles away!" He complained.

"What, you allergic to exercise?" The badger scratched his head, slightly confused. "If you want that hot-dog, we've gotta go and get it. Come on." He continued to walk as Rigby felt a thought occur to him. It wasn't an extremely rational thought; it was one of those beautiful, impulsive nuggets of thought that strike out of nowhere.

"Hey wait!" He unwrapped the idea in his head. It was bound to get them in trouble if they were found out, but it saved him from walking all the way back. Besides, he was sure that Benson was still there, or at least on his way back from the diner by now. He didn't fancy seeing his boss any time soon, so he threw caution to the wind and blurted out his idea. "I know where we can get hot-dogs for free. And closer." He felt the familiar pull in his gut; the sensation that followed when one deliberately broke the rules or cheated the system. It wasn't like Benson was going to miss two lousy hot-dogs. He smirked, his desire to appear cool to his new companion driving him forwards. Anders stopped and faced Rigby once more.

"Wait, you can get us free food? It's from a homeless shelter, right?" Rigby grunted with annoyance. "Pass. Besides, the diner makes damn good food."

"No, dude. I know where we can get food that isn't free; but we'll get it for free." He was heavily implying his plan just from his tone of voice. Anders clicked on to the point after a few seconds.

"Ohhh! I get it." His eyebrows dipped in the middle, his face putting on a menacing smile once again. "Why didn't you say so?" He flexed his fingers.

"So where are we going to lift the goods from?" Rigby felt that garnering Anders' interest was a small victory. He was on his way to proving exactly how cool he was.

* * *

"Dude!" Mordecai sounded alarmed.

"Shh!" Rigby hushed him as people looked over. The jay lowered his voice.

"Dude, you took them from the snack bar?" He looked shocked. "Dude, what's your problem?"

"I was gonna pay Benson back at some point... besides, he's not going to miss two hot-dogs." Rigby shrugged. Mordecai thought for a moment, not entirely convinced.

"How did you even get in? It's locked shut in the evenings. Dude, I'm not going to take the blame for this one! If Benson finds out, you're on your own." Mordecai wagged a finger as he made his point.

"Whatever, man. Benson won't find out anyway. Dude can pick locks." He smirked coolly.

"What? He can? I hope that this is all just a crazy story. This is all starting to sound way too much like a fantasy, man. You've lost it, Rigby." Mordecai scrutinised, hoping that he was right and that Rigby was just making all of this up.

"Seriously, Mordecai. Anders is a real guy, and he's totally awesome." Rigby was starting to get frustrated about his friend not believing him.

"He sounds like a jackass." Mordecai scowled. "If he's even real, that is." Rigby scowled back. "Dude, he threatened to kill you, twice; acted like a tool for the entire time you were together; then he helped you steal stuff from the snack bar." Rigby growled at the blue jay under his breath.

"Dude, I'm telling you, he's awesome. And he's totally real." He pointed at Mordecai, then crossed his arms defiantly.

"I'm not listening, Rigby. He's just a figment of your- oh no." Mordecai saw the ward doors swing open as a badger, slightly shorter than himself, wandered in. His long, black and red hair was greasy and unkempt; his eyes surrounded with red paint, and his jeans pockmarked with holes. Rigby peered over his shoulder, before turning back to his friend with an expression on his face that said everything that needed to be said. "Rigby, tell me you didn't invite him to come with you."

"He knew I was coming to visit today, so I just thought it'd be cool if he tagged along." He shrugged, not seeing it as such a big deal.

"Not cool. So not cool. I am so pissed at you right now." Mordecai had the urge to engage his friend in a one-sided game of punchies, but he knew it wasn't the right time or place. Anders strutted across the ward and settled next to Mordecai's bed, offering a handshake.

"So you're Mordecai, huh. Man, little fella got you good, huh." His breath stank of stale tobacco smoke. Mordecai didn't shake his hand, hoping that Anders would get the message. The badger shrugged it off. He wandered around to the foot of the bed and inspected his cast; leaning forward to get a closer look. "What was it, fracture?" He got no reply. Rigby nudged Mordecai's arm to urge a response out in to the open.

"Yeah." His brow was set firmly above his eyes as he stared at the newcomer with distaste. Anders seemed to ignore his expressions.

"So, I take it you'll be on crutches for a few weeks then?" He patted his hand against the cast, making Mordecai jump on the spot in shock.

"Watch it!" He yelped, kicking Anders' hand away with his healthy foot.

"Bit sore, huh." Anders didn't seem to mind his little outburst, partly expecting it. He walked around the bed again to stand next to Rigby. "Shame about the injury though; I guess you'll be out of the courtship game for a few days. That said, Margaret will probably take pity; then you'll have the upper-hand." It was obvious from Anders' wily expression that he was seeking a reaction. Mordecai didn't give in; not wanting to cause trouble in a hospital ward. He quietly turned to look at Rigby; a threatening expression adorned his face that made the raccoon shrink back.

"What else did you guys talk about?" He sounded angry, but he kept his voice down. Rigby ground his foot in to the linoleum flooring and looked away. "What else, Rigby?"

"Everything..." He whimpered with an upwards inflection making the answer sound more like a question. Mordecai just stared. "...well, not everything. I told him a few... personal things."

"Yeah, we traded a few amusing anecdotes." Anders beamed politely; his friendly expression barely diminishing his imposing appearance.

There was an awkward silence; a stand-off, so to speak. Mordecai cast glances between the two that stood next to him; they stared back, occasionally peering at each other looking for prompts. Anders broke the silence first. "Sorry I was late, by the way. I had to stop by the store and pick up some more smokes."

"Uh-huh." Mordecai could barely think of anything else to say; anything that would be considered suitable for public airing, anyway. A few personal things? He'd show Rigby personal things. He wanted to use words that would make every mother in the state profusely salivate with unbridled rage. He held his tongue back, lest it do irreversible damage.

"So, when are you getting outta here?" Rigby asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation. At first, Mordecai didn't answer, still trying to stop himself from shooting a stream of personal insults at the both of them. Rigby looked up at him questioningly, but quickly glanced away again. The split-second eye contact was both painful and awkward.

The doctor soon arrived, before Mordecai could take a breath to answer Rigby's question. He inspected the chart just as the nurse had done before. His arrival prompted all three of the men to look in his direction. Mordecai was relieved to see him, having met him the day before. He was a good-natured man; especially on such a gloriously sunny day. He hoped that his jolly attitude and delivery of good news would ease his bitterness towards his former co-worker.

The bitterness towards Anders, he wanted to hold on to.

* * *

_Author's notes:_

_Re-reading this as I make a few minor edits for the upload, I do realise I've made Anders out to be perhaps a little more horrid than previously intended. I still think it fits; I mean, he's not attacking elderly ladies in the street or whatever. Don't get me wrong, Anders is a pretty vile person with very obnoxious demeanour and he probably does deserve a rather swift kick to the groin. I originally set out to make him easy to hate; but as his biography unfolds I'm hoping that he becomes more than just a character to direct bile at._

_-Sy  
_


	5. Chapter 5: Sausagefest

Chapter 5: Sausagefest

They were laughing about something. Were they laughing about him? What did this complete stranger know about him? He hobbled behind them on his crutches; their impact with the pavement creating a loud, rhythmic clicking sound. He panted as he tried to keep up. "Hey! Wait up!" Mordecai yelled, as he started to tire out. He wasn't entirely used to his crutches yet, having only made it a few streets away from the hospital. Benson had offered to pick him up outside the hospital, but he opted to stay with Anders and Rigby. He wanted to know exactly what personal and embarrassing details Rigby had let slip to Anders.

"Oh, sorry dude." Rigby sounded a little guilty, having gotten caught up a little too much in his conversation with his new friend. He had barely noticed that they were walking too quickly for Mordecai. He dropped back a little, choosing to walk next to his best pal for a while. Anders didn't seem to mind, being the independent soul that he was. He continued to stroll ahead of the duo, smoking his lungs in to submission. He had unzipped his jacket entirely open, in light of the sweltering heat of the summer afternoon; exposing the front of his torso, adorned with grey fur. It prompted some disapproving glances from passers-by; not that he cared so much. Rigby still found the public reaction to be strange; as he and Mordecai were completely stark naked almost one-hundred percent of the time. He growled at a dapper gentleman that wandered by as they made a rather rude comment under their breath. He wondered how the situation would have played out if he had spoken such words to the badger's intimidating face.

Probably with a 911 call.

Mordecai was still upset; trying not to say too much to his friend, in case he offended him. Rigby spoke up, not enjoying the awkward silence one bit. "I'm sorry about your foot, man. I still feel real guilty about it, ya know." He crossed an arm in front of his body, holding the elbow of his other arm.

"Don't worry about it." Mordecai tried to sound positive. "Accidents happen, man." He didn't tell him how much his leg still hurt or how much the cast was starting to itch in the daytime heat. Rigby felt slightly unsatisfied with his response. He didn't want a negative reaction, that was for certain; but he had an inkling that Mordecai wasn't being entirely sincere. He stayed quiet, not willing to challenge him. For just a moment, silence reigned again, except for the sounds of occasional passing cars and other pedestrians. Every now and again, the smell of tobacco smoke would drift to them. Mordecai tried the passive-aggressive approach towards showing his distaste for Anders' habit, coughing loudly once in a while. Rigby noticed, but decided not to say anything about it. He was laid-back in terms of personal liberties; not wanting to judge people too much based on their likes or dislikes. Unless, of course, they disliked what he liked. That went practically without saying. He knew that Mordecai was also quite relaxed about personal tastes, though he was quite picky about the arts. Rigby had a feeling that he was only taking issue with Anders' nicotine addiction out of spite, rather than a hatred for cigarettes. Rigby wondered how best to approach the issue his friend had with Anders, tossing a few ideas around in his head. He truly wanted them to get along, but so far he hadn't painted the newcomer in the best light.

"So..." He began. Mordecai looked down at him, half expecting an appeal to accept the scarlet-streaked man walking ahead of them. "... Do you want to grab some lunch, dude?" He asked, hoping to get them in to a room together on neutral territory. He figured a public eatery would be the best place for it. Mordecai smiled at him, thankful that he hadn't confronted him just yet.

"You know what? Sure!" He chuckled jovially. "So where were you thinking?" he asked, looking at the signs on the buildings nearby. He saw a few cheap-looking fried chicken places and burger bars, a few chain restaurants. Normally he would have jumped at the chance to have some more delicious junk food to hand, but the state of his foot and the constant presence of the noxious fumes drifting from Anders' lungs made him feel unhealthy.

"How about a pizza?" Rigby offered. He couldn't possibly refuse such a glorious meal; the mere mention of the word made the raccoon feel the familiar rumble in his gut.

"No dude; I've been lying around for more than a whole day." He complained.

"But we lie around all day anyway!" Rigby responded, perplexed as to why Mordecai refused one of his five-a-day. "You were just doing the same we always do, but in hospital."

"Yeah, I know dude. It was a hospital though; it makes me feel all unhealthy and junk." His reply prompted a raised eyebrow from his buddy.

"So, no pizza?" Rigby thought about his options. "Dude, pizza is totally healthy! It's like, fruit or something."

"Yeah right! You know that's not true." Mordecai smirked.

"Is so! It was on TV. It's the sauce, I think." He tried to rationalise his argument.

"Dude, I'm not getting pizza..." The statement took the wind out of Rigby's sails. Mordecai grimaced and tried to rescue his mood before it plummeted. "...b-but you can have pizza, if you want. I mean, most pizza places serve... sides or something. I could get like, a salad. Maybe." He cautiously peered down at Rigby to gauge his reaction. He smiled in response, settling Mordecai's conscience for a moment. "That okay, dude?"

"Yeah, man! Double pepperoni, double cheese. New York-style." Rigby read out his order off the top of his head.

"Wait, are you just deciding what you're gonna buy, or are you telling me what you want?" Mordecai frowned. "Cuz you were the one who wanted to get something to eat in the first place."

"Dude, unemployed?" Rigby held up his hands in a shrugging motion. Mordecai stopped walking, resting on his crutches. His expression was noticeably sour. "Like, forever." Rigby continued, hoping to get back on to his good side via pity.

"What? Benson fired you?" He seemed sceptical.

"Yeah, he went totally nuts when we left the hospital yesterday."

"What for? He said you still had another chance. Oh. Rigby, what did you do?" He would have crossed his arms if he wasn't using them to hold himself upright.

"Nothing! Benson just freaked out. He was way outta line!"

"Pfft-yeah, outta line." His sarcasm flooded the entire sentence.

"Dude! I'm telling the truth. Skips even thought he was being crappy about it; he quit!" Mordecai's face twisted to a look of terror.

"Oh that's not good!" He started hobbling ahead quickly on his crutches, catching up with Anders who had continued to walk ahead.

"Mordecai! Wait!" Rigby ran after him, hoping that his friend would not hurt himself from a fall or some other mishap. "Where are you going? C'mon, slow down!" He begged as he easily closed the gap and jumped in front of him.

"Dude, I gotta talk to Benson! I might be next! Dude I can't afford to lose my job! What am I gonna do?" Mordecai was on the verge of panic, shaking noticeably as he continued to swing his body weight across the concrete on his crutches.

"Mordecai, relax! He can't fire you! If he fires you, you could sue him! Remember?" Rigby recalled their conversation in the hospital the day before, hoping to ease some of his friend's worry. Mordecai slowed down, stopping just in front of Anders, who had turned to see what all of the commotion was about. He stopped to catch his breath, wobbling on the spot before nearly toppling over sideways. He caught himself by flinging one of his supports out against a wall, but in doing so he managed to stamp his broken foot firmly in to the ground; shouting as a sudden jolt of pain shot up his leg. He hopped on the spot, tripping up before he fell forwards. He could only imagine what sort of agony was in store as he hurtled towards the ground. Mordecai caught his breath as he felt two hands grasp his shoulders; the only injury he suffered being a slight scrape on one knee. He panted heavily as he felt his heart beating in his throat in preparation for the impact. He felt a smaller pair of hands placed against his chest before Anders and Rigby carefully righted him once more.

"Careful, man. Nearly had to take you back to the hospital then." Anders chuckled about his little tumble, seemingly trying to make light of it. Mordecai didn't laugh back, simply thanking them both for their assistance. "Are you okay?" Anders asked, seeming quite sincere. He was the last person that Mordecai expected to hear concern from, but despite the surprise, he took it as better-than-nothing.

"I'm fine." He readied both of his crutches, but before they could set off again, Anders held up a hand to halt them.

"Wait a second..." He noticed the graze on the blue jay's knee. "...Let me get that for you." He reached in to his pocket to retrieve his package of adhesive bandages.

"Seriously, it's nothing. Stop." He looked on with unease as he saw the badger withdraw a skin-toned strip from the tiny box.

"Nonsense, gotta look after my friends, right?" His reasoning seemed sincere, but after all they had heard about this possibly insane individual, Mordecai was far from sure.

"My knee's fine. You don't have to do that." A tone of panic had crept in to his voice again, but for entirely different reasons. Now he worried about looking like an idiot in public. Anders smiled warmly as he slowly pulled back the plastic strips from the sticky side of the bandage. Mordecai glanced around to make sure nobody was watching; or pointing and laughing. It was all so embarrassing, but he could not bring himself to lash out to defend his dignity. He couldn't afford to fall over again, either. All of his options seemingly led to public shame. Anders leaned over forward to secure the sterile strip to Mordecai's skinny leg, taking his time so as to prolong the agonising awkwardness as much as possible.

"Nearly done!" He sang with the inflection of a loving mother.

"Dude, stop." Mordecai could find no other words. "Just stop." Anders continued, flattening the slightly stretchy plastic out with the palm of his hand. The physical contact was the last straw. Mordecai flung his knee, balancing on his bad foot, putting the pressure on again. Anders jumped back and let fly with a cackling laugh; wheezing for breath with his tar-stained trachea.

"Haha! Priceless!" He revelled in the reaction he had finally coaxed out of him. It was all too easy; not just one, but two easily rustled people to toy with.

"That is not funny, dude." Mordecai bared his seldom-seem teeth at the badger, his anger rising in his throat. "I knew you didn't just want to help me!" He stopped before his rant could pick up steam when he heard someone titter to his left. Rigby was holding his face with two hands, trying to stifle his own merriment.

He felt betrayed; even though it was such a trivial matter. "Dude! Quit it! It's not funny!" His outburst made Rigby lose it; laughing out loud. This triggered Anders again, as they both started laughing heartily right there on the sidewalk. Mordecai blushed as people started to look their way. "Stop it! I'm serious!" His voice was losing volume as he just wanted to downplay the situation and move on to somewhere else. Somewhere very far away. "Quit it!" Mordecai found his balance and swung one of his crutches towards Rigby. It collided with the raccoon's arm, knocking him over on to the concrete. He stopped laughing immediately, but Anders could barely contain himself; turning his attention towards Rigby as he hit the ground.

"Oh this is priceless!" He pointed at the raccoon as he started to haul himself off of the floor and dust himself down. "Oh man, he took you out! Hahaha!"

"Knock it off!" Rigby snarled, now in the same position as Mordecai. "It's not funny!"

"Oh, so it was funny before I hit you with the thing?" Mordecai yelled, angry at his friend for not standing up for him before. Anders laughed even louder, all of his teeth visible as he threw his head back, howling riotously. He watched, cackling uncontrollably as they started to argue like a couple of unruly children.

"Dude, it was funny because you freaked out!"

"I freaked out cuz it was embarrassing, you turd!"

"You're embarrassing! And a turd!"

"Turd!"

"Turd!" They both screamed in unison as Rigby threw himself at Mordecai's chest, swinging his arms like a maniac. His weak punches slapped against Mordecai's cheeks and forehead, though his feathers blocked most of the impact. He took as many as he could bear while trying to free one of his hands from the plastic loop at the top of the crutch.

"Rigby, quit it!"

"Never! Ahhhh!" When Mordecai had finally freed his hand, letting the aluminium walking stick drop away, he wound up and took aim before punching the raccoon in the side of his torso. "Oof!" He wheezed as he fell away, landing in a heap on the sun-warmed concrete. Mordecai panted, straightening up his recognisable quiff and carefully bending to retrieve his crutch. Anders had stopped laughing, seeing the power that the jay could put behind his fist. Though he had enjoyed watching their friendship break down momentarily, he didn't want to deal with a murder.

"Uhm, is he okay?" He asked cautiously, watching the brown ball of fluff twitch.

"He'll be fine." Mordecai replied in a slightly aggravated monotone.

"You sure?" He asked, wondering if Rigby would lie there long enough for buzzards to become interested in his corpse.

"He'll be fine. He's just a crybaby." Mordecai teased, speaking loud enough for Rigby to hear him clearly. The raccoon instantly sat upright, pointing an accusing finger.

"Am not!" He yelled, gnashing his teeth.

"See, I told ya he was fine." Mordecai shrugged and turned to continue down the street. Rigby massaged his bruised ribs through his fur, groaning as he tried to cope with the pain.

"Not cool, Mordecai."

"Dude, you were hitting me in the face!" Mordecai yelled, hoping that Rigby would feel guilty for it. "I mean, what the H, Rigby? First you break my foot, put me in hospital; then you start attacking me in the street? You're lucky nobody called the cops." He motioned at some of the bystanders that were still gormlessly staring at the trio as they made their way along the sidewalk. Rigby was quiet, refusing to make eye contact. He knew Mordecai was right. Mordecai was almost always right. He felt stupid.

"You're right, man. I'm sorry." His sincerity surprised Mordecai momentarily.

"You're sorry? Dude, you're like, never sorry."

"No, really. I'm sorry man. I'm sorry for everything." There was a pause as Mordecai digested the words. He didn't want to admit it, but the urge to gloat was rising. To avoid any further upset, he swallowed his pride and took the high road.

"Apology accepted." For a second or two, nought but the sound of Mordecai's crutches clacking along the pavement prevailed, before Rigby spoke again.

"Thanks, dude." He smiled up at his friend again, not one to hold a grudge. Well, almost.

"Touching." Anders jibed, chuckling to himself. Mordecai rolled his eyes, frowning for a moment as he tried to ignore his sarcastic remark. Rigby cast him an apologetic smile, as if to say sorry for dragging Anders along.

They walked slowly this time, in silence for the time being. Mordecai's pulse returned to normal after a few moments of taking it easy. His foot ached almost unbearably, but complaining was Rigby's hobby, so he left it to the expert.  
"When are we gonna get pizza?" He whined, dragging out the last syllable in an agonisingly irritating fashion. Mordecai sighed; no rest for the wicked.

* * *

Eventually they arrived at PizzaFace, a new restaurant that had opened up in city centre. They stopped outside, looking in through the panoramic glass windows, checking out the interior decor.  
"PizzaFace? Really?" Anders snorted at the silly pun on the sign above them.

"What's wrong with PizzaFace?" Rigby asked. "It looks good to me." The joke had apparently soared over his head, so Anders shrugged it off.

"Never mind." He sighed and pushed the plate-glass door open. The inside of the restaurant was very trendy; patterned walls and furniture looking more akin to abstract art than anything that resembled tables and chairs.

"Yeah, this place looks good, to me." Mordecai commented, happy with their choice. A young woman in her early twenties, a sparrow, approached the trio.

"Table for three?" She asked in a bubbly voice.

"Uh-huh." Mordecai answered for the three of them.

"Right this way." She chirped cheerfully, sweeping a hand gracefully as she turned to lead them in to the restaurant. Rigby noticed as Anders surveyed the unknowing young lady.

"Very nice." The badger purred to himself. It didn't surprise Rigby in the slightest that their waitress' behind would catch his attention. He didn't mention it, but he did smirk as Anders' appreciative comment went unheard by all but they.

"Here we are!" She sang confidently, pulling out a chair for Mordecai, taking note of his injury. "I am Gaila, I'll be your waitress this afternoon." She seemed cheerful and approachable, not shy in the slightest.

"Hey, thanks." Mordecai smiled at her, thankful of her thoughtfulness.

"No problem!" Gaila circled the table, handing out menus to each of her three charges. "Now, what would you all like to drink?" She withdrew her notepad from a pocket on the front of her apron, readying a pencil and waiting eagerly for their requests. Anders jumped in to his order before the other two even had time to peer down at the leather-bound menu sleeves.

"Beer, please." He smiled politely, his face softening more than they had ever seen it before. Gaila seemed almost surprised by his accent, despite the flag patch sewn on to his jacket.

"O-of course!" She jotted his order down on the tiny paper pad on her hand. A slight blush crept in to her cheeks, though she wasn't sure why. She felt slightly embarrassed for not expecting such a voice or such manners to belong to someone with such a striking appearance.

"I'll have a s-" Rigby began.

"In fact, make that three beers, please." Anders interrupted with the most dignified and friendly voice he could manage, while motioning to his new friends from across the table.

"Right away, sir." She added a little note next to his order and flitted away through the restaurant.

"Dude, what was that!?" Mordecai yelled, throwing his arms in to the air. Anders looked across at him with a confused stare.

"What, don't you like beer?" At this point, Mordecai was unsure if he was just playing dumb for a negative reaction or if he was just ignorant.

"No. We don't like beer." He scowled and laid his palms flat on the table.

"I like beer. Just sayin'." Rigby interjected, eager to distance himself from the square nature of his friend.

"Rigby! What?!" Mordecai could barely believe it. As far as he could remember, Rigby hadn't let a single drop of booze pass his lips. They always favoured getting jacked up on sugary caffeinated drinks, rather than getting drunk.

"Yeah dude, I love beer." Rigby continued confidently. He sat back with one elbow on the table and one leaning on the back of his chair; exuding an air of nonchalance.

"No you don't. You don't even drink." Mordecai accused, glowering over the table at the raccoon.

"Hmm-hmm! We'll see." He sneered.

"Dude, I bet you'll be flat-out after your first bottle." Mordecai folded his arms and grinned evilly. He wanted to see exactly how far Rigby would go to impress the neon poser who sat with them. "Don't expect me to hold back your hair when you throw up though." He jibed, putting on the same tone of voice as an over-enthusiastic dog owner.

"Shut it!" Rigby shouted, causing a few stunned individuals to glance over at the trio for a moment. A slight murmur passed around the room. Rigby shrunk back a little when he realised he had caught some strangers' attention. Anders stifled a laugh at his expense.

"Hmm-hmm-hmm!" Mordecai bobbed his head in time with his jibing. "You totally can't handle it." He could barely wait to say that he had told him so. Rigby's anger simmered below the surface, his face betraying his emotions seemingly of its own accord.

Soon Gaila arrived with their beers, setting three glasses down on the table, followed by three brown bottles, their caps already removed. "Here you are, gentlemen." She tweeted.

"Thank you, you are too kind." Anders was obviously going to try sweet-talking the sparrow; Mordecai and Rigby could already tell of his intentions. They kept quiet. "And such quick service, too." His tone of voice was sly, wily and smooth; but the slightly sleazy and downright condescending undertone was hidden by his 'exotic' foreign accent. As far as Anders could tell, chicks really dug European accents.

"Oh-hehe...uhm..." Gaila appeared flustered for a moment, seemingly not used to this amount of courtesy in her line of work. "...Uh, thank you." She regained her composure, keeping her natural shyness at bay. She didn't get paid to be bashful. "So, are we ready to order?" She asked, readying her notebook again. She cleared her throat and brushed back the sandy feathers on her head.

"Yeah." Rigby had obviously left his manners somewhere other than PizzaFace. "Get me a large, deep-pan double pepperoni with extra- ow!" He yelped as Mordecai kicked his shin under the table. "... Could I please have a double pepperoni with extra cheese?" He rubbed his leg as he shot a dagger-filled glare at the blue jay. Gaila was brought back down to the reality of her job by his rude demeanour.

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't serve pepperoni-" she began. As Rigby opened his mouth to protest, she continued quickly to quell any sass. "-we do, however, have a fine selection of cured meats and sausages as a refreshing alternative." She recited the line from memory, as she had learned to do in her training.

"Fine selection?" Rigby asked; so far unimpressed with the service. What sort of pizza place didn't serve pepperoni anyway?

"Well, we have: chorizo, salami, rookworst and Cumberland sausages; as well as pastrami, prosciutto, smoked ham, Canadian bacon and roast beef."

"And no pepperoni?" Rigby didn't seem entirely impressed by the selection.

"Sir, if you are a pepperoni fan, I can certainly recommend the chorizo and salami."

"But it ain't pepperoni!" He complained. He winced as Mordecai kicked him once more.

"Sir, chorizo and salami are almost the same as pepperoni." Gaila started to lose her cool. While the badger showed her the polite and friendly end of the spectrum of clientele, the raccoon was showcasing the exact opposite.

"'Almost' isn't 'exactly'- Ahh!" He yelled as he felt a heavy boot sole collide with his toes. Both of his accomplices were now scowling at him.

"What?" He whined as he nursed his foot, bringing it up on to his chair to keep it away from further harm.

"Right you are, sir..." Gaila conceded. The customer was always right. "...Pepperoni it is." She sighed, jotting down '1x czo + sal, L D' in her notepad. "And what type of cheese do you want on your pizza, sir? We have mozzarella, cheddar, Monterey Jack, parmesan, feta and Mexicana." She put on her smile again, waiting for his response.

"Seriously?" Rigby raised an eyebrow. Anders cleared his throat. "Okay, okay! I'll have that last one, twice." He folded his arms and sat back in his chair, looking like a child who had been denied a chocolate bar.

"Double Mexicana. Very good." Gaila jotted down 'Mex x2', along with a tiny scribble of a chilli pepper. She circled it a few times, looking forward to her impending revenge. She was unsure whether this obnoxious customer was aware of what exactly Mexicana was, but she was going to make damn sure that he didn't forget. "And for you, sir?" She turned to Mordecai, who looked up at her with an expression that silently apologised for his friend's behaviour. She nodded minutely in appreciation.

"Yeah, could I have a small, deep-pan with the... uh. Roke worse..." Mordecai struggled with the pronunciation. He had never heard of such a meat before, but he decided that he wanted to try something new. "...chorizo and mozzarella, please. Could I have a salad as well, please?" He felt like his manners would somehow make up for Rigby's poor display. He watched Gaila nervously as she scribbled down his order; seemingly totally recovered from Rigby's less than chivalrous behaviour.

"One personal pizza with rookworst and chorizo, deep-pan with mozzarella. One side-salad." She repeated, her bubbly attitude returning. "And, finally, you sir." She turned to Anders, who put on his best movie-star grin. Mordecai grimaced at his slimy, underhanded advances. He felt even worse about Gaila seemingly falling for it.

"I'll have the same as my good pal Mordecai, over there," he motioned across the table, "but with a side of fries instead of the salad, if you please." He brushed some of his fringe away from his face in a way that would have seemed over-the-top to an international pop star. Mordecai stuck his tongue out disapprovingly; retracting it before anyone could notice. He still didn't like this new tag-along, but he wasn't entirely stupid. After hearing what Rigby had been through the day before and after their mishap earlier in the day, he wanted to keep confrontations to a minimum.

"One personal pizza with rookworst and chorizo, deep-pan with mozzarella." Gaila repeated, sounding a little more shy the second time around. "And one fries." She added, putting the notebook in to the front pocket of her apron. She stepped back. "Yup." She turned quickly and stalked off in to the kitchens. They were left in an awkward silence as they watched her walk away, until she was out of sight.

"I think I might have her attention." Anders smirked and checked his fingernails.

"I don't think so, man." Mordecai tried to throw him off of the scent; not wanting him to go through with what he thought was on his mind.

"You don't think so? Nah, she totally wants me." He flexed his arms like a bodybuilder, kissing his biceps in sequence. Mordecai resisted the urge to express his distaste. He could empathise with Anders in his pursuit, but what he felt for Margaret was, by far, different to the badger's feelings for this absolute stranger. Somewhere, deep down, he felt that it would amount to heartbreak; and he wished that Gaila would not succumb to Anders' game.

Several minutes passed as they waited for their order to arrive. Anders stared in to the bottom of his glass where the last few beer suds lingered. He looked across at Mordecai and Rigby, both of whom had poured the contents of their bottles in to their own beakers; yet they had not drank a drop. Mordecai, after having put Anders' fiendish plan to the back of his mind, continued to smirk at Rigby. "So, how's your beer?" He asked sarcastically, revelling in the discomfort that he was causing his friend. If he was going to act tough, Mordecai was going to hold him to it. Rigby growled, gripping his glass and pulling it towards him. He nursed it with both hands, yet he did not lift it to his lips.

"I'm just not thirsty yet, is all."

"Dude, it's like a hundred degrees outside. I bet you're really thirsty." Mordecai challenged. The slightly tipsy badger grinned as he watched Rigby's façade start to collapse yet again.

"Nah dude; I feel fine. Seriously." Rigby kept on trying, no matter how much of an idiot he appeared.

"Okay, whatever you say." No matter how much fun it was knocking Rigby off of his poorly constructed podium, Mordecai knew that he was perhaps just as thirsty as the raccoon. He didn't hate beer per se, but he much preferred any other beverage over booze. He knew that it didn't make him the coolest twenty-something in the state, but he had developed a much stronger taste for the noxious sweetness of modern energy drinks. Still, to keep up appearances; he lifted his glass and as coolly as he could, slaked his thirst with a quick draught of the foamy, orange drink. It was bitter-sweet, but its ice-cold temperature thankfully disguised the subtleties of the malty swill. He could only just taste it as the bubbles stung the inside of his beak, quickly swallowing to ensure he didn't suffer it for too long. The bitter aftertaste clung on to the back of his tongue for longer than he had hoped, but he decided that all-in-all it wasn't too bad. As encouraging as he had hoped to be with his little stunt, a brief and almost nonexistent shudder was enough to let Rigby know what he was getting in to.

"So, do you like it?" Anders asked curiously, recalling how Mordecai had mentioned their lack of drinking experience.

"Uh, yeah it's alright, I guess." Mordecai shrugged. He had nothing to hide, in terms of his preferences. With no such weight on his shoulders, he wanted to see exactly how far Rigby would try to climb with his lie. He wanted to see him fall, if only to teach him a lesson. The raccoon looked on in slight shock as he watched his friend take another sip, feeling as though he was being defeated in a competition. He lifted his cup to his lips and tilted his head back, letting the beer flow quickly in to his mouth. Before the other two could react, Rigby had drained half of his glass, setting it down on the table with a thud.

"Ahhh." He sighed in a satisfied way, trying to be smooth as the extremely fizzy liquid burned. His eyes watered up as he held back a sneeze.

"I don't even need to ask if you like it or not, Rigby." Anders tried not to laugh as he watched the raccoon's face screw up.

"What? Of course I like beer!" He took his sarcastic remark as a challenge, downing the rest of his beer in a second round of gulping.

"Dude, slow down!" Mordecai protested as he had a minor flashback to the previous evening, when he broke his foot. He knew that Rigby's tiny stature, as well as his lack of resistance, would allow the alcohol to affect him much more than Mordecai himself. Rigby slammed his glass down on the table.

"Aww yeah! That's the stuff." His machismo acting was almost painful to watch; far less convincing with the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks.

"Rigby, this isn't gonna end well." Mordecai warned, but Rigby was having none of it.

"Pfft, whatever." He leaned back in his seat with his arms folded. "You're just jealous cus I'm awesome." Mordecai frowned at him.

"Dude, you don't have to prove anything to anyone." He was having second thoughts, feeling guilty for egging him on after seeing him blitz an entire serving in under a minute. He didn't want to have to make a return trip to the hospital to get his stomach pumped.

"You're not the boss of me, Mordecai." He dragged his name out with a sour grimace. "Stop telling me what I can and can't do."

"I just don't want to have to drag your unconscious butt all the way home." His voice was becoming heated again, angry that Rigby's poor self image had spurred him to give in to peer pressure.

"Dude, I'll be fine. I wanna have another beer." He dismissed his friend's concern, overestimating his limits.

"You know what? Have it your way, Rigby. I'm going home. Enjoy your pizza. Just remember I won't be here to pick up the pieces." He pushed his chair out to stand, but Anders put a hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon, don't be like that, Mordecai." He sounded sympathetic. "Sit down, please." He hoped that Mordecai would stay, finding them both far more entertaining together.

"Dude, I'm not gonna stay. I'm fed up with his stupid ideas, and I barely even know you. I just wanna go home." He shook Anders off, picking up his crutches.

"But, you could... ya know, get to know me?" Anders suggested, hoping he would take the bait.

"Why should I? It just seems like every time you want to be near someone, you're just tryin' to make fun of them." Mordecai pushed his chair in and readied his crutches to make way for the front door.

"I know we've probably not got off to the best start..." Anders began, sounding apologetic.

"Just shut it! I've had enough of your stupid games."

"Just give me another chance! C'mon, I'm chilled. Seriously, I'm a nice guy if you get to know me!" Anders tried to sound sincere, holding on to Mordecai's elbow so that he wouldn't leave. Before he could get Anders to release him, he spotted Gaila returning to their table with the first half of their order. As he glanced over, Anders followed his gaze.

"Okay, gentlemen! Your food is- oh. Is everything okay?" Gaila asked as she spotted Mordecai standing up.

"Oh, yeah. I was uh... just... going to the bathroom." Mordecai improvised, chuckling nervously, not wanting to seem like a jackass in front of their waitress.

"Oh, okay sir." She looked away for a moment, partly embarrassed for herself, but also for him. "Do you need some... assistance?" She asked shyly, noting his current disability.

"What? Oh, no. No it's fine." Mordecai stammered. "I got it." He started to hobble over towards the mens' room.

"Okay, well, I'll just leave your food here! It should still be warm by the time you get back." Gaila smiled to him, before pottering off to the kitchen to get the rest of their order. Anders took this as a sign that he would be staying. He relaxed and leaned back in his chair, scratching his chest, much to the disgust of another patron.

"So, Rigby. How about another beer?"

* * *

_Author's notes:_

I know, I know; cigarettes and alcohol aren't really alluded to in the actual show. I figured that, as this is fan fiction, I get a bit of liberty in things like that. It does seem, to me, that if the show were aimed at a slightly older audience, this sort of subject matter would be fairly commonplace anyway. I guess it fits to the sort of guideline I set myself when I started:

"What would Regular Show: The Movie be like?"

I know it sounds egotistical; I am, in no way at all, writing a film script.

I just thought that most movie adaptions of shows aimed at young teens are usually slightly "edgier" or whatever you want to call it. Also this story is slightly (read: "a lot") more drawn-out than the episodes may be.

Anyway, Gaila is, so far, just a minor character. I want to introduce her again later on in the story because of reasons.

-Sy


	6. Chapter 6: House Banned

Soda:

Chapter 6: House Banned

An unsteady hand groped for the handle, that familiar doorknob. Fingers probed the white, gloss-painted wood, searching for the cold metal. "Dude, be quiet!" He hissed. "Stop laughing!" He whispered angrily, shaking the raccoon by the shoulders, letting his head wobble loosely.

"Hahaaa you call me dude a lot... dude..." Rigby replied, his eyes slowly rolling around in his head, as if inspecting unfamiliar surroundings. He grinned stupidly, hiccupping and continuing to chuckle.

"I told you, man. What were you thinking?" Mordecai managed to turn the knob, pushing the door open carefully; the creaking hinges making him wince.

"I was th-...thinking that how good... this beer...is...was." Rigby batted Mordecai's hand away from his shoulder and stumbled past him in to the room. He tripped over nothing and landed flat on his face. "Oof! Uuugh..." He groaned, picking himself up shakily and rubbing his nose.

"You drank like five bottles!" Mordecai knew that most people could probably handle five bottles of beer, but Rigby's tiny size made the effect of the alcohol far stronger. "Why didn't you stop, Rigby?" He closed the door with his back, leaning in to it and folding his arms disapprovingly. He was thankful of the support, enabling him to remove the crutches. The plastic cuffs were starting to irritate his forearms. He picked them up and placed them lengthways on his bed.

"I... didn't stop cuz I'm so awe...sum." Rigby made what he believed to be a straight line towards his trampoline, which was covered in old clothes and other assorted miscellany, as usual.

"Dude, it was just dumb. You don't drink. You never drink!" Mordecai followed him across the room, trying to make eye contact from above, but failing to catch his attention. Rigby flopped down on to his bed, but fell right through it; the soft pile of clothes collapsing beneath his weight.

"Huh? Where's my...? Aw man, did you ...? Uh..." Rigby started to dig half-heartedly through the fabric, searching for the familiar metal frame he so cherished. "Dude, where is it!?" He yelled, starting to panic. Mordecai looked on, confused.

"Dude, I've not been home since you busted my foot, remember?" Mordecai hobbled closer to help the raccoon dig through the myriad of random objects that littered the floor. After a few seconds of furious searching, the raccoon sat bolt-upright.

"Oh..." He seemed to have had an epiphany, though his tone of voice sounded disappointed.

"Oh? What do you mean, 'Oh...' ?" Mordecai stood upright, carefully pulling himself up with his hand gripping the edge of the hole his skull had left in the wall the day before.

"That's right..." Rigby continued, as if speaking to himself.

"Rigby, what is it?" Mordecai started to feel a sense of worry creeping in to his gut.

"I took it there..." The emphasis on 'there' made wherever 'there' was seem of the utmost importance.

"You took it where, Rigby?" Mordecai leaned against the wall with one hand, taking the weight off of his injured leg momentarily.

"Anders' place."

"You did what?! Why would you even do that?" Mordecai freaked out, trying to resist the urge to strike out at his drunken friend.

"I took all my junk to Anders place, cuz Benson kicked me out." Rigby rolled over on top of the pile and stared at the ceiling, finding patterns in it.

"I know Benson kicked you out, dude; that's not the point! Why did you take all your stuff to that psycho's place?" He wondered how much of Anders had already pawned.

"He's a cool guy, man! Why d'you hate him so much?" Rigby picked up a sock, investigating the finer points of its existence.

"That's not the point, Rigby! Why did you take your stuff to Anders?!"

"Because..." Rigby paused to belch, the rancid stink of stomach acid and hops momentarily pervading the air. He grinned as Mordecai fanned his nostrils. "...because he's my friend, and he said I could stay on the couch til I find a place." Mordecai stood with his beak slightly agape. What was Rigby even thinking?

"Rigby, you idiot! That guy isn't your friend! I'm your friend! We're friends!" He yelled, yet again resisting the ever-growing urge to lash out. "He's not stable! He's probably out selling your crap to some shady dude right now!"

"Pfft-whatever, Mordecai. You're just jealous cuz he's cooler than you!" Rigby delivered a half-hearted retort, blinking slowly as he started to feel his booze-induced stupor turn towards lethargy.

"What?! Rigby, he's a freak! He's all like, 'oh hey I'm gonna kill you', then 'you wanna have a beer?'. You really think you can trust him?" He seemed to be in disbelief of his friend's stupidity.

"Leave me alone." Rigby grumbled, turning over to face the wall.

"Oh, I see... 'Mordecai's right, so I'll just mope. I won't admit that I'm wrong because I can't stand being wrong, ever.' Whatever, Rigby." Mordecai hopped over to his bed and pulled the crutches off of the blankets, letting them clatter on to the floor. He slumped on to the mattress, letting himself lie on his back. "You know what? I hope he does sell your stuff." He blurted out, feeling vindictive.  
Before Rigby could respond, footsteps on the landing made them both sit upright. They watched the door as the handle turned and it swung open.

"Alright, what's going on in here? I could hear shouting from outside and- oh..." Benson stood scowling in the doorway, the backs of his hands pressed against his hips. "What's he doing here?" He motioned to Rigby, who held up a hand and wiggled his fingers in apparent greeting.

"He's drunk." Mordecai shot a glance across the room at the dazed-looking raccoon.

"He's what? Rigby's drunk?" Benson didn't seem to believe it.

"Yeah. He thought he'd prove how cool he is to some random stranger."

"Shut up, man. I don't need to prove how cool I am; you can already tell." Rigby giggled, picking up the arm of a shirt and draping it across his face daintily.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard." Benson stomped across to the corner of the room, reaching in to fish Rigby out of the trash.

"Why is he even here, anyway? He doesn't live here anymore."

"Benson, he's drunk. I couldn't just leave him there." Mordecai tried to reason.

"Well, you should have. He's a liability, and I don't want him sitting around in the house. Rigby!" He yelled as the raccoon refused to stand. Benson tried to drag him upright, but his arms were as loose as ropes, flopping around heavily. Rigby laughed at his former boss, which infuriated him.

"Rigby! Stand up!"

"You're not my mom." Rigby teased.

"I'm your boss!"

"No you're not." The momentary silence that followed was uncomfortable, but Rigby smiled throughout. "You fired me, so I'm free!" Rigby moved himself in a way that suggested dancing, though he remained horizontal.

"Well, you're not allowed to be here." Benson roughly yanked the raccoon to his feet, a motion that sent a wave of nausea through his body. "You need to leave, right now!" Benson shouted, his face glowing a characteristic red. Rigby smirked defiantly.

"No."

Mordecai shielded his face as a sound like a boiling kettle started to swell. The volume built and built, before Benson shouted with such force that his gumballs made him in to a maraca.

"Get. Out! Now!" Rigby wiped some spittle from his cheek, clumsily smearing it with the heel of his palm.

"Alright, fine. Jeez." He swatted Benson away, wobbling his way over to the open door. Mordecai sat upright, supporting himself on both hands.

"Rigby wait! Where are you going?"

"I don't care, maybe just back to see what..." His voice trailed off, unable to conjure the effort to finish the sentence.

"Tell me you're not going back there! Dude, you can't be walking out there on your own! You're trashed." Mordecai felt remorse for not having stopped Rigby from drinking so much. He felt, as his best friend, that he was now responsible for him until he sobered up. That said, he was still feeling somewhat bitter about Rigby's insistence to keep drinking.

"You can't tell me...do." He mumbled, supporting himself on the door frame before he turned the corner, heading for the stairs. Mordecai quickly pushed himself to the edge of his mattress, leaning forward to pick up his crutches.

"Rigby, wait!" He heaved himself upright, swinging forward on his crutches until he found his balance, before quickly ambling out on to the landing. Benson followed, stopping behind him and watching as Rigby tried to descend the stairs.

The raccoon grabbed for the banister as he placed his foot on the first step down, but missed it by a hair. He tripped and stumbled, slipping down the first few steps, but keeping himself upright by awkwardly leaning his shoulder against the wall. He rested for a second, before slowly stepping down each stair with both feet, one after the other, feeling his way with his hands. When Rigby reached the ground floor, Mordecai followed after him, carefully placing his crutches on each step in turn, swinging himself down after them, leading with his healthy foot. "Stop following me!" Rigby yelled, slurring his words slightly. He continued towards the front door, placing both hands on the handle.

"No, man. I'm not letting you go back there! At least, not on your own. And drunk." Mordecai tried to catch up as quickly as he could, but Rigby was too quick. He pulled the door open and slipped out, slamming it behind him. The picture frames rattled on the walls, settling skewed. Mordecai groaned with exasperation.

Benson was the last one down the stairs. "Well, thank goodness he's gone." Mordecai glared for a moment, not daring to say anything in case he also lost his job. "Don't look at me like that." Benson demanded, pointing a finger.

"Benson, you don't understand-" He was interrupted before he could finish.

"I don't understand? What's not to understand?! He was in the house, I don't want him in the house. End of story." Benson's voice was dripping with sarcasm, something that Mordecai was used to.

"Benson-"

"No, I don't want to hear it. Now, you should go and sit down or whatever. Take the weight off of your foot; you won't be able to work as a groundskeeper until that cast comes off." Mordecai frowned and stayed put, not fulfilling Benson's expectations. Benson shrugged it off; he would find Mordecai some paperwork to do instead. The longer the jay's foot took to heal, the less accounting he had to take care of by himself.

Benson changed the topic, as if what had happened before held no importance whatsoever. "Oh, by the way: Muscleman and Fives have seen some guy skulking around Skips' place. I told them not to approach him, because I think he'll move on sooner or later. It's not like he could steal anything, since Skips moved out." He wandered over to the sofa and retrieved his clipboard, which he had tossed there before he climbed the stairs just moments before. "That said, just be careful, okay? If someone suspicious comes looking around this house, you call me. I'll let the police know if anything's up. Got it?" He pointed again.

"Okay." Mordecai sounded downtrodden, drawing out the last syllable.

"If you see a guy with red and black hair come anywhere near this-" It was Mordecai's turn to interrupt.

"Wait! Red and black hair?" He called out, sounding slightly panicked.

"Yeah, red and black- Hey! Wait! Where are you going?!" Benson yelled as Mordecai quickly stumped his way to the door and let himself out.

"No time! Gotta go!" He answered without looking back, launching himself across the porch so he could begin the awkward descent of the stairs.

"Mordecai!" Benson yelled again, standing with his arms folded by the front door.

"I'll be back later!" He was already half way down the stairs; adrenaline allowing him to grasp the motions required, suffering only the occasional slip and stumble. He landed with a crunch on the gravel, launching himself forward as far as he could with every swing of his crutches.

"Mordecai! Stop! Get back here now or you're fired!" His threat carried very little weight this time, but as old habits die hard, he could barely help himself.

Soon Mordecai had reached the main gate. He was absolutely sure that he would have caught up with Rigby travelling at the pace that he had managed, yet Rigby was nowhere to be seen. "C'mon man, I know you didn't run. Where'd you go?" He thought for a moment, getting his thoughts in order. He couldn't have headed to Anders' place, he would have found him before he left the main gate. He wondered about what Benson had said about the high-contrast intruder; he'd been seen at Skips' house. Mordecai realised that his best bet would have been to check there first, but wanted to be sure that Rigby wasn't going to leave the park. That said, where would he have wandered to? He would have continued on his way to Anders' apartment, judging by how he was acting at the house. Something, or someone, must have reached him first. Mordecai turned on the spot and headed across the dry grass towards Skips' house, panting heavily as he got back up to a jogging speed with his arms.

Eventually, he reached Skips' house. The arrival felt strange without calling out for the white yeti's help, but Skips was already long gone. He slowed down, cautiously approaching the building. He peered left and right, looking for signs of Rigby or Anders, but could see nobody. Mordecai decided to call out, hoping for a reply. "Rigby!?" He shouted, looking around and waiting for the tiny raccoon to surface. Nobody responded. "Rigby!?" He tried for a second time, louder and longer, but again, nobody replied. He hoped that he would not have had to call for the latter, hesitating. "Anders?" His voice was quieter, unsure. He questioned whether or not he would still be around; knowing that it wouldn't take long to realise that nobody was home. Nevertheless, the badger made an appearance.

"Lost someone, huh." He stated flatly, sounding neither menacing or sympathetic as he wandered in to view from behind the garage. He had both hands in his jacket pockets, slouching slightly. He leant against the garage door with a hollow metallic thud, yet another cigarette hanging from his lips. Mordecai was thankful that it wasn't alight, but he knew that the chance that it would be were quickly approaching one.

"Where is he?" Mordecai put on his sternest possible expression, standing his ground to give his words some weight.

"Where is who?" Anders, sure enough, withdrew his hands from his pockets, cupping them around his lighter. He sparked it and inhaled as he lit the paper cylinder.

"You already know!" Mordecai clenched his fists around the handgrips of his crutches, the plastic squeaking quietly in protest.

"Yeah, yeah! Calm down; he's fine." Anders' reply held Mordecai in suspense; he could not be sure he was telling the truth until he beheld Rigby with his own eyes. His stubborn silence made Anders' roll his eyes. "Ugh, seriously. He's alright! Look." He wandered back towards the rear of the garage; dropping out of sight for a moment. Mordecai could hear a scuffle break out behind the house, followed by the unmistakably whiney timbre of Rigby's voice.

"Let me go!" He yelled as Anders reappeared, holding the raccoon by the scruff. The badger complied, placing him down softly on to his feet.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere, you hear? You're wasted, little buddy."

"I'm not." He protested, swinging a weak hammer-fist at his knee, but missing entirely. He swayed gently on the spot before proceeding to slump on to the ground, executing an almost seamless pirouette on the way down. Mordecai watched as Anders continued to casually puff on the cigarette that hung precariously from the corner of his mouth.

"How did Rigby get here? He didn't know you were over here, right?" He was partly worried, wondering if Anders was up to another game or trick.

"Mordecai, you think far too little of me..." He knew that he hadn't made such a good first impression on the jay, so he expected some suspicion from him. "...Lucky for you, I ran in to him as I was leaving the park; he was about to walk straight in to the road, you know. I might have a 'dark' sense of humour, but I wasn't about to let him get run over!" He grinned, removing the cigarette from his mouth and tapping some of the ash off of the smouldering tip. "Anyway, I brought him back to the house, but nobody was answering the door." Mordecai relaxed slightly, mulling over his response. He felt only a tad more at ease, guessing that Anders wasn't up to much in regards to Skips' home as he first thought.

"Oh, uh. Thanks." Mordecai awkwardly scratched at his injured leg with one crutch, leaning to one side to keep his balance. "And this isn't the right house, man. Sorry, it's just, we live further up, past here."

"Oh, that'll be why I didn't get an answer for a solid hour, then." The badger shuffled his feet, adjusting his stance. "Well, that makes me look kinda stupid, huh. I just spotted this house on the way in to the park, so I figured it was the right one."

"You can't miss our place, dude. It's like, right in the middle." Mordecai was sceptical of his lack of spatial awareness.

"Bad memory I guess. I've only been in the park once before, maybe a month ago. It's weird, it seems a lot longer than that." He scratched one ear, lost in contemplation for just a moment. Mordecai cocked his head slightly. Before he had time to ask more, Anders continued their conversation, changing the direction. "So, how was the walk home? Not too much trouble, I hope." He seemed considerably more amiable than he was during their time in the city. Mordecai was somewhat confused, but figured that perhaps a little alcohol was enough to calm the European's mischievous nature. Though he still felt some hostility towards Anders, he couldn't help but feel thankful for his intervention. After all, they may very well have required another trip to the hospital if he hadn't found Rigby. Mordecai threw caution to the wind and engaged in conversation, lowering his defensive attitude for just a moment.

"Uhm, yeah it was...it was okay, thanks." He thought for something else to say, wondering if the anecdote that had slid to the tip of his tongue was suitable or not. He had not forgotten that Rigby had told a few personal stories to the badger just the night before, so he decided that one from his side would be fine. If anything, it was to settle the score that had set itself in his head. "Rigby did try to pee on a fire hydrant though." He looked away for a moment, wondering which way the statement would tip Anders' mood.

"What, like a dog?" A smile stretched across his face as he asked for details.

"Yeah, on all-fours." Mordecai held back his laughter, sniggering for a split second. He was unsure if he wanted to get too friendly with this complicated stranger just yet.

"Stop talking!" Rigby shrieked, clumsily climbing to his feet, keeping his balance as well as his encroaching lethargy would allow.

"Dude, you totally did." Mordecai reasoned. He knew that Rigby couldn't deny it, especially in his intoxicated state. Keeping a lie together took far more effort than Rigby was willing to put in, so he just angrily shook a fist at his friend. Anders suddenly started to chortle with such feeling that it put Rigby on the back foot. The raccoon jumped back in surprise and fell on to his rear, leaving the floor open for Mordecai to laugh along heartily. Rigby gave up, slowly folding out on to his back in the dust. He sighed in defeat, not feeling much like fighting them. He longed for his trampoline; the familiar companion, the faithful sidekick, somewhere he always felt comfortable. He grumbled, letting their voices amalgamate in his ears until they both became nought but a dull rumbling. His eyelids slowly enveloped his eyes, letting them rest, shutting out the bright sunlight. In a few short seconds he was sleeping soundly, spread eagle and snoring quietly.

When they had both calmed down, letting their laughter recede, Mordecai and Anders looked at the exhausted raccoon. "Wow, he really can't hold his beer, can he?" Anders said, appearing puzzled; being a man who Mordecai guessed could probably drink a whole naval crew under the table and still walk in a straight line after being pulled over by the cops.

"He's only three foot tall, man. To him it was like, twice as much. Plus he doesn't usually drink, so, there's that." He wondered exactly why he was defending his friend's honour. It wasn't exactly like being unable to consume dangerous amounts of ethanol was a character flaw, but somehow he felt the need to make an input.

"Eh, yeah I guess so." And just like that, Anders dropped it. Mordecai expected him to argue his point or make an obnoxious joke at his friend's expense, but it was not forthcoming. The mustelid looked to be lost in his thoughts again for a moment, as if contemplating something deep. Before Mordecai could ask him what the matter was, Anders posed another question. "So, why was he leaving the park, anyway? Did your A-hole boss catch him?" He took a final drag on his cigarette, burning it down to the orange-coloured butt before dropping it in to the dust. He stepped on it, grinding it in to the dirt.

"Yeah, he was pretty pissed that he was back at the house." Mordecai went with it, unsure why he was feeling quite so much easier around him. "He was heading back to your place, because his stuff is there." He arched his back, stretching out his muscles. He was starting to tire of standing.

"Ah yeah, that'll probably be it." Anders' reply seemed very short, as if he didn't have much else to say. There was a moment where all that could be heard was the birdsong and nearby traffic sounds carried on the faintest of breezes.

"Are you okay?" Mordecai asked, feeling immensely awkward in doing so.

"Oh, yeah. It's nothing." Anders replied, appearing to cheer up in an instant; though his smile looked as though it was forced. Mordecai let it slide for the time being, noticing his increasingly aching leg and forearms that resulted from standing for so long.

"Do you want to go to the snack bar or something? It should still be open til six." He offered, craving a cold drink; but mostly anticipating a place to park his behind to take the weight off of his foot. The badger nodded.

"Yeah, sure." He replied, looking down at Rigby's unconscious body. "But what should we do about him?" He asked, nudging him with the toe of his boot.

"Well, we can't leave him here; and I can't carry him." Mordecai looked to Anders apologetically, seeing no other alternative. He waited for his usual obnoxious attitude to return, but was surprised when he nodded instead. He leant down to scoop Rigby up off of the dusty ground, lifting him up on to one shoulder. "Sorry, Anders." Mordecai hoped that he didn't feel embarrassed carrying the drooling raccoon across the park.

"Don't worry about it. People look at me funny all the time anyway. I don't care! Like I give a-"

"Hey!" Anders was distracted as he beheld an imposing figure approaching fast along the dirt path. "Put him down!" The gruff voice yelled. Mordecai turned to face the source of the gravelly tones, spotting Skips charging towards them with a stern frown upon his ancient face. "Put him down, now!" He growled, his face contorting vehemently. Anders started to back up, skirting the garage door, edging towards the front of the yeti's house. He panicked as Skips bore down on him, swinging a punch that buried itself in his ribs. He yelped, dropping Rigby from his shoulder, who landed roughly. Mordecai was struck with horror, standing on the spot, not daring to move closer.

"Skips! Wait!" He could barely believe what he was seeing as Skips threw another balled fist that collided with the badger's jaw. Anders lost his footing, slamming in to the ground with a painful sounding thud. "Skips! Stop!" Mordecai shouted as loud as he could manage. The yeti stood with one foot upon Anders' chest, holding him down firmly. He turned his head to make eye contact with Mordecai.

"What?!" He seemed to be uncharacteristically angry, spooked.

"Stop! He wasn't hurting Rigby or anything! He was just carrying him!" Mordecai was unsure of what else to say; Anders may have been imposing-looking, but he was certainly no match for Skips. He was worried as to why the normally rational sentinel was acting so violently, so suddenly.

"Skips, please!" He begged. If anything, he didn't want to see his old friend arrested for assaulting a tourist; on top of that, he felt sympathy for a semi-conscious man trapped under his foot. The yeti contemplated what had happened for a moment, looking to Rigby as he pulled himself shakily to his feet. He looked down at Anders, who was groaning in agony, a tiny trickle of blood-stained saliva flowing from his mouth. He turned to look back at Mordecai, who was shaking minutely on the spot. His face softened, turning from rage, to confusion, to regret. He stepped back, releasing the pressure from the German's chest. He looked down at him once more.

"Dude, what?" Rigby paced around Anders, inspecting his swollen jaw. "Skips, what happened?" His words were slurred, his confusion increased tenfold by sleep and alcohol. The yeti said nothing, starting to skip away as per usual; regarding his personal commitment to his long-lost love.

"Skips?" Rigby asked again, slowly stumbling after him. Skips stopped, turning to peer over his shoulder again. Anders was starting to pull himself up off of the ground, eyes clenched shut and teeth bared.

"Bad vibes..." He muttered to himself, before he continued on his way, quickly disappearing from sight.


	7. Chapter 7: Through the Keyhole

Chapter 7: Through the keyhole.

The early evening sun warmed his back as he cradled the cold cup of soda in his hands. An icy lemonade after a long, hot and stressful day was just what was needed. He traced his finger through the cool condensation on the paper surface, watching as the droplets of water rolled across his feathers as he thought of the day's events.

"I just don't know what else to say, man. I'm sorry that Skips freaked out and attacked you." He repeated himself, still not feeling that sorry was quite enough. Anders seemed unusually level-headed about what had happened though; mostly focused on resetting one of his teeth. He was holding down his molar in to his gums, wincing as it touched some sensitive nerves. He occasionally mopped away some bloody saliva from his lips with a paper napkin.

"It's okay." He murmured around his fingers, brushing his hair from his face with his free hand.

"It's not okay, dude. He hit you really, really hard. If we didn't stop him, he could have killed you."

"He could never kill me, man. You gotta go to town on someone real bad if you're gonna kill them." Anders shrugged it off, sipping at some water and gargling it. He spat it out on to the concrete, leaving a frothy red-orange splatter on the ground.

"He killed me by arm wrestling, once." Rigby interjected. Mordecai glared, trying to get him to be quiet. He didn't want him to take it any further, lest Anders ask too much about the legitimacy of his statement. The badger stared at Rigby, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"He obviously didn't kill you, Rigby."

"He did tho-"

"Dude that was a dream, remember?" Mordecai interrupted him, trying to curb any questions he might have. When Rigby looked like he was going to reply to the contrary, he received a sharp, bird-footed kick to the shin. He yelped, knocking his own soda on to the floor.

"Yeah. A dream." Rigby scowled, attempting to kick Mordecai back, but missing due to his short legs.

"Anyway, I really hope he doesn't do it again." Mordecai continued, feeling somehow responsible for the way Skips had treated him.

"It's nothing, seriously. I get in to scraps all the time. You ever been in a bar during closing-time?" He left the question hanging there, knowing they hadn't. Rigby's ongoing intoxication was evidence enough.

"Dude, Skips isn't normally like that though." Mordecai motioned with his hands; thankful that they weren't confined to his crutches for the time being. He wanted to get across just how serious it was when Skips took such a drastic approach to someone.

"Maybe he just thought I was attacking Rigby? I mean, he was on my shoulder when he smacked me in the chest." Anders seemed to be far too reasonable about the assault. Mordecai had expected him to retaliate, respond in kind. That, or he expected him to press charges.

"Yeah, maybe." He thought for a moment, picking up his lemonade and slurping at it.

"Mordecai gimme your soda." Rigby barked, feeling upset after having spilled his own.

"No way, man." Mordecai took another swig.

"No fair!" He complained, whining in his typical manner. "You made me spill mine!"

"No dude."

"Hmph!" Rigby slumped over the table, folding his arms. He put on his best pout, staring at Mordecai as if willing his drink to spill in to his lap.

"So, where do you think he went? Skips, was it?" Anders inquired, finally removing his fingers from his mouth, satisfied that his tooth was going to stay put without assistance.

"I don't know, man. He looked pretty freaked though." Mordecai was still slightly spooked by the yeti's outburst. He could still see his snarling expression in his mind.

"You think he'll try it again?" Anders didn't sound worried at all; merely curious, almost as if he wanted Skips to reappear.

"Maybe. He looked kinda upset when he left, though." Mordecai gulped more lemonade, thankful of the cooling sensation in his stomach. It distracted him from his aching foot and the unsettling recent memories.

"Mordecai, c'mon, gimme the soda!" Rigby whined.

"No!" He yelled in response, already starting to get sick of his complaining.

"C'mon, dude, I really need a drink!"

"No! Buy another one!"

"Dude, you know I don't have any money!" Their bickering was trivial, but Anders found it at least mildly entertaining. It took his mind off of his swollen jaw, making him smile.

"Well, I paid for the one you spilled! I'm not paying for another one."

"I thought you were my friend." Rigby's response was underhanded, questioning their friendship for the sake of some spilled sugar-water. Even though it was his most potent weapon in his persuasive arsenal, Mordecai didn't buy it.

"Stop being such a crybaby, Rigby!" He watched as the raccoon pouted all the more, looking dejected. There was no more than mouthful of the beverage left in the cup. Mordecai watched for as long as he could manage, as Rigby tried to coerce him with puppy-dog eyes. "Ugh! Fine! Here, have the stupid soda." He slammed the cup down in front of him, making the contents splash out of it. Rigby avoided the droplets as they landed on the table, greedily snatching up the cup and pouring what was left of the lemonade on to his tongue.

"Thanks Mordecai." Rigby smiled politely, but Mordecai could only perceive smugness.

"Pfft." He huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Aw, that's cute." Anders slowly began to return to his mischievous self. "Just like a married couple." Mordecai and Rigby both glowered at the badger.

"Not cool." Mordecai began.

"So not cool." Rigby added.

"Aw c'mon guys. It was a joke! Lighten up." Anders grinned at them both, shrugging in an exaggerated fashion. They were quiet for a second. He was right, though they didn't want to admit it. It was only a joke.

"Even so, lay off the married couple jokes, kay?" Rigby demanded.

"And the c'mon guys jokes?" Anders asked.

"What?"

"Never mind." He let the joke sail over the raccoon's head, dropping it from then on. Mordecai slapped his forehead with his palm.

"Lame." He commented, causing the badger to chuckle. He followed his laughter up with another sip of water and a sigh.

"So, what do we do now?" Anders asked, crushing the small plastic bottle in his hands now that it was empty. Mordecai hummed for a moment, resting his head on his palm, supported by his elbow on the picnic table.

"Who knows, dude?" He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he thought of what to do. It was only the early evening, but he knew that at some point they would have to split up. Mordecai, whether he liked it or not, still had work the following morning. He was fairly sure that he was the only one earning money between the three of them, but he couldn't be sure about Anders. He was almost certain that he was a tourist, so he couldn't be employed. Could he? It wouldn't really explain how he was renting somewhere, seemingly permanently, without some stable form of income. The more he thought about it, the more he felt jealous of his friend. Rigby was unemployed, sure, but he was free to do as he pleased; Mordecai would be stuck inside all day doing countless boring tasks for his overbearing boss.

"Dude, let's go for a drink." Rigby suggested, sounding rather enthusiastic.

"No; you're still drunk." Anders rolled his eyes.

"So? You guys aren't. Yet." He tried to convince them, though it wasn't working at all.

"No. You can't handle your alcohol anyway. Maybe some other time, huh?"

"Ugh, you guys are boring. I'm bored. This is boring." He complained.

"How about you guys come back to my place and we just hang out?" Anders left the offer floating to see if they would take it. Mordecai thought about it for a moment, still partly unsure about his motives. He ran his fingers through his feathery quiff as he considered it. On one hand, he still felt some animosity towards him, finding him unpredictable and at times, unreasonable. On the other, he was starting to see Anders for who he was; though his sense of humour was as he put it himself, dark, he could still be pleasant and responsible.

"Uhm, I don't know Anders..." He began, still mulling it over in his head.

"Dude, he has video games..." Rigby jumped in to the conversation quickly.

"There are video games back at the house." He argued his point, but Rigby defended his reasoning.

"...Including that weird promotional crossover of Strong Johns and Dig Champs." The raccoon made a smug face, knowing that he had already won the debate.

"Woah, really? That was meant for Europe only!" Mordecai's face lit up. "Have you played it?" He sounded like a young kid at Christmas, presented with many unopened and neatly wrapped boxes. Rigby smirked.

"I..." He drew out his pronunciation of the very first syllable in such a way that sounded smug and self-entitled. "... have the current high-score! Hmm-hmm-hmm!" He knew that he had thrown down the gauntlet.

"Not for long!" Mordecai's face set in to a determined expression as he slammed both hands down on the table. He leaned forward to stare Rigby down. "C'mon. Let's go."

"You're on! Don't Morde-cry when I show Anders what a loser you are!" Rigby stood his ground, leaning across the table defiantly. The badger, first to step away from the table, laughed out loud.

"Rigby's a pretty mean player; I don't know if you can handle him!" He jibed, trying to stir up their competitive nature. From previous experience with them both, he knew it wouldn't take much to tip them in to a full-on melee.

"Yeah, Mordecai! You heard him." Rigby reached up and pinched Mordecai's cheeks, as an embarrassing relative might do to a young child. "Better quit while I'm ahead." He spoke as an enthusiastic pet owner; a cutesy tone of voice that stung the jay's ego as much as Rigby's pinching stung his face.

"Quit it!" He slapped his hands away with a strong back-hand swipe. He frowned sternly, prodding the raccoon in the chest with every word. "You're. Going. Down." His third and final poke pushed Rigby with enough force that he tumbled backwards off of the bench he was kneeling on. He landed in the dirt with a dull thud. Anders could barely contain his raucous guffawing.

"Literally!" He yelled as he cackled. Mordecai joined in, finding his timing to be perfect. Rigby picked himself up and dusted himself off.

"Shut up!" He barked, walking around the table. He stood by Mordecai's side and tried punching him in the gut; his weak right hook slowing against the jay's feathers with a dull 'piff'. Mordecai chuckled and pushed the raccoon away, firmly shoving his forehead with his broad palm.

"C'mon, let's go." Anders stood and wandered around to stand over Rigby. He grabbed his arms, bunching his wrists together in one hand and dragging him along in the dirt, making way for the main gate.

"Stop! Stop it! Stop!" Rigby yelled, kicking and squirming as he bumped over the pointy gravel.

"Dude, you are so weak!" Mordecai teased as he stood, retrieving his crutches and hopping along behind them to catch up. Rigby whined pitifully, still twisting and struggling to release his hands as he scraped along the path towards the main street.

* * *

The key turned in the lock, opening the door one its creaking hinges. "Ugh, gotta oil this." Anders complained, withdrawing the key from the lock. He tossed the tiny bunch of keys, held on a key-ring, on to the floor atop a pile of assorted objects. Mordecai recoiled slightly at the state of the apartment, finding it in an even worse state than, what was now, his room back at the house. He thought not to mention it, wanting to stay on Anders' good side.

In the middle of the room was a beaten-looking, brown leather sofa, complete with blankets and a pillow in a rough bundle at one end; obviously Rigby's temporary lair. His trampoline stood on-end, leaning against the wall in a corner of the room, next to a tiny, ancient-looking TV on an upturned plastic crate. A variety of objects; old and new, junk and valuables, intact and broken littered the apartment. There were a few clear pathways through the sea of miscellany leading to the essentials; bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. A games console sat in its own clearing in the overgrown forest of old socks and food cartons, two controllers lying around haphazardly on the floor. Strong Johns VS Dig Champs was visible in the cartridge slot atop the black plastic casing.

"Nice place." Mordecai timidly complimented, though he knew it was a lie.

"Thanks! It's not much, but it's home." Anders wandered in to the kitchen, letting the two of them get comfortable. "Take a seat!" He yelled from the tiny room, rummaging through the cupboards. "You guys want something?" He asked, proceeding to relocate his search the fridge.

"Uh, I'm good thanks." Mordecai shyly parked himself on the sofa which squeaked in protest.

"Got any snacks?" Rigby called. There was a moment filled with more rummaging noises, before Anders called back.

"Got a few bars of chocolate... microwave popcorn... and some cheese-curls."

"All of that." Rigby practically demanded, as though manners meant nothing.

"A nutritious meal." Anders joked as he wandered back in to the living room. He threw the armful of junk food at the raccoon, who yelped in surprise as the corner of a chocolate bar caught his cheek.

"Dude, watch it!"

"You watch it!" Anders argued, reminding Mordecai partly of himself.

"Man, what gives?" Rigby complained as he picked up the neatly folded packet of microwave popcorn. "This popcorn ain't popped." He threw the brown paper packet at Anders, who caught it almost effortlessly and threw it straight back. The dense paper slab slapped him across the cheek.

"The microwave is broken, remember?" He motioned at Rigby, as if it was too obvious.

"Oh... Oh yeah." He looked away, seeming embarrassed, but a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth was more than enough for Mordecai to figure out that Rigby had something to do with it.

"No thanks to you. Oh well, it was an old piece of junk anyway." Anders slumped down at the end of the sofa, leaving Rigby somewhat uncomfortably sandwiched between them. Mordecai wondered if it was a deliberate attempt to get back at the raccoon for destroying the appliance. The raccoon grumbled, wriggling his way out from between his friends.

"Dude, not cool!" He jumped up from the sofa, letting the packet of corn kernels drop to the floor, before he carefully made his way across the living room to switch on the television.

"Oh, sorry. Did you not have enough room?" Anders' sarcasm made Rigby's brow furrow with slight frustration.

"Grr! Shut it!" He growled, scooping up the two controllers in both arms and stabbing at the power button of the games console with one foot as he wandered back to the sofa.

"Calm down, dude." Mordecai said with a throaty chuckle, finding Rigby's annoyance to be as enjoyable as ever when it stemmed from a trivial situation.

"No you calm down!" He yelled, throwing one of the controllers at his friend, his competitive nature starting to show. "Just you wait til I kick your butt at this game. Then we'll see who needs to 'calm down'."

"Okay dude." Mordecai shrugged off his trash-talk, rolling his eyes. He took the controller in his hands, tracing the cable back to the port. With a smug grin he selected his character. "Gotta love the shovel." He watched with amusement as the penny dropped.

"Aw man! What? I thought you were player two!" Rigby looked to the TV, then back to Mordecai, then to Anders. The badger shrugged and grinned with as much smugness as his feathered acquaintance.

"Hurry up and pick someone, dude! I wanna play." Mordecai shifted towards the arm of the couch to give Rigby enough room. He begrudgingly accepted his position as player two, hopping back on to the patched-up, scuffed leather seat.

"You'll never beat me." He grumbled, nudging the selection cursor over to the digger with the pickaxe.

"Dude, I beat you at video games all the time." Mordecai responded, not finding him threatening or challenging in the slightest.

"You'll see! I don't need that sucky shovel. You're going down, Mordecai!" Rigby barked, hitting START. The game commenced with a heavily digitised countdown.

"THREE. TWO. ONE. FIGHT." The TV buzzed, prompting the two armchair athletes to start attacking their controllers. Rigby vigorously mashed the buttons with white-knuckled ferocity, while Mordecai calmly tapped at the keys until he had a grasp on the controls; expertly manoeuvring his character away from the wildly flailing pickaxe.

"Dude, quit dodging me!" Rigby yelled, getting far more in to the game than perhaps he should have.

"Why don't you just learn to hit me?" Mordecai teased, momentarily removing one hand from his controller and shoving Rigby over to one side. The raccoon growled angrily as he quickly righted himself, leaning forward and mashing the buttons even harder.

"You're never going to-"

"PLAYER 1 WINS" The TV honked, obnoxiously primary-coloured letters flashing on the screen.

"Beat me?" Mordecai finished Rigby's sentence for him. Rigby shouted in frustration, slamming his controller down on the couch cushion.

"Grr! NO FAIR! You got the guy with the shovel again!" He complained, making Anders stifle a laugh. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to make the situation worse, but he thought to hold fire and see how far Rigby would dig by himself.

"Dude, just face it; I'm always better than you at video games and I always will be." Mordecai proclaimed with an air of self-importance, raising his chin proudly.

"No! It's just cuz you got the shovel guy! Gimme the controller!" Rigby commanded, reaching across to try and grab it.

"No dude! It's just a game!" Mordecai held the controller out of his reach, holding him back with his other hand.

"Mordecai! Give me the controller!"

"No! It doesn't make a difference! You just suck at games!" Mordecai couldn't help but be upfront about it. He knew Rigby wouldn't take it well, but he wasn't above hurting his feelings when he acted up.

"No, you suck at games!" Rigby retorted, unable to find anything to respond with.

"Stop whining and prove it, then!" Mordecai picked up Rigby's controller by its cable and dropped the light plastic brick in to his lap.

"I'll show you!" Rigby started the next round, preparing for Mordecai's attacks this time. He composed himself, seemingly as an expert, waiting for just the right moment. Mordecai moved in with a well-timed attack, making Rigby immediately revert to his old ways of practically destroying the controller.

No more than five minutes had passed before they reached their tenth consecutive round. Rigby was still aggressively hammering his thumbs in to the cheap plastic, hoping that it would eventually work. Mordecai remained his usual calm self, in the Zen state of competitive gaming. Rigby tried as hard as he could, finally learning how to avoid one of Mordecai's most basic moves. When he finally felt that he had the upper hand, Mordecai managed to execute a special combo attack that instantly floored his friend's character.

"And... done." Mordecai declared, holding out the controller in front of him and releasing it with the same smugness of a rapper dropping the mic.

"K.O.! PLAYER 1 WINS. AGAIN." Rigby knew that once the game itself had decided to mock him in its lo-fi robot voice, it was already far beyond Game Over.

"Oooooh!" Mordecai chanted, whirling his hands around above his head in celebration. Rigby jumped down and stormed over to the console, pulling the plug straight from the outlet. Anders stood up.

"Hold on a moment! What do you think you're doing?" Anders frowned, his menacing appearance striking momentary fright in to Rigby as he turned to witness it.

"I... Uh... Just..." Rigby stammered.

"I'd thank you to treat my stuff with some more respect!" The badger seemed considerably more offended than he had imagined.

"Yeah dude, what the heck?" Mordecai was also frowning, arms folded sternly. "That's not ours, man."

"I'm sorry..." Rigby tried to seem sincere, but his anger towards Mordecai was far too prominent in his mind.

"It's just a game, Rigby." Mordecai continued. It was a phrase that he recalled throwing around a lot over the years.

"If you can't treat my stuff with respect, why should I treat yours any differently?" Anders posed the question, wondering if Rigby had the answer.

"I'm sorry, man..." He whined, hoping a pitiful tone of voice would fend him off. Anders calmed down a moment; a split second where Rigby was treading the right path. "...I just thought that cause this place was such a mess, you didn't really care about it." He finished his sentence with a shrug, making a monumental error in judgement.

"What?!" Anders growled, bearing his teeth and lunging at him. Mordecai yelled for him to stop, but was unable to stand and hold him back physically. Anders listened, however, catching himself before he wrapped his fingers around the raccoon's neck.

"C'mon man, he's really sorry!" Mordecai didn't want to be part of yet another fight. Though he found it silly that Rigby got upset so quickly while playing video games, he also thought Anders was being extremely hot-headed in regards to his personal belongings. "He's just really stupid."

"Hey!" Rigby threw his arms in to the air in protest, but Mordecai held up a palm to silence him.

"Seriously Anders, give him another chance. He won't do it again, I promise." He just wanted the evening to go smoothly, taking up his role as peacekeeper between two volatile characters. Anders didn't reply, thinking about what to say. He looked at Mordecai, receiving a pleading stare in return, before turning his attention to Rigby, who was shielding his face with both arms. He sighed and relaxed, turning back towards his place on the sofa and dropping in to it heavily. His hand reached for the foil packet of cheese curls that lay on the floor, lifting the rustling bag in to his lap.

"I'm really sorry man, I shoulda been more careful I guess." Rigby's attempts at sincerity were somewhat flawed, but Anders ignored him. Again, he said nothing. He pried the bag open, rummaging through it to procure a fistful of the salty orange snacks before stuffing them in to his mouth. His guests watched awkwardly as he munched on the junk food, handful after handful.

"Uh... Are you okay, dude?" Mordecai asked, worried by his sudden change of heart. He didn't like it when people fell silent; especially potential psychopaths.

"Yeah man, something up?" Rigby added, wanting to sound concerned. Silence replied yet again, reigning over the room except for the dull crunching sound of the corn-puffs against his teeth.

Once their host had stomached almost half of the share-size bag, he stopped, dropping it on to the floor carelessly and letting the contents spill out on to the carpet. He stared at his knees for a little while, a neutral expression on his face. Mordecai and Rigby watched with baited breath, each of them planning their own escape should the situation turn ugly.

"Oh damnit!" His delayed reaction made them both jump. He stood, sweeping the back off the floor and carrying it in to the kitchen. "How does that always happen?" He was apparently talking to himself. Rigby looked to Mordecai for a prompt, but his friend just shrugged. "No wonder this place looks like crap." Mordecai craned his neck to get a look in to the kitchen, spotting the badger feverishly searching for a brush with which to get the bright orange dust out of the carpet pile.

"Hey, dude..." He whispered to Rigby. "... This is really weird."

"Uh huh. Why's he so pissed about it? It's not like this place is clean anyway." Rigby looked around at the piles of assorted trinkets strewn across the floor.

"I don't know, dude." Mordecai took another peek. "Don't say anything." He warned the raccoon as Anders started to make his way out of the tiny kitchen and back in to his living room.

"What, why?"

"Because you'll make it worse." Mordecai hissed, hoping he would keep his mouth shut. Rigby grumbled, but he seemed to agree.

Anders knelt down in front of the couch and started the somewhat futile job of removing the powdery orange crumbs from the carpet. "Every time." He complained to himself, his language then suddenly shifting to German. His guests stared on in confusion, both trying to translate his angered rambling in their heads, to no avail. They watched in silence as he scrubbed the carpet with frustration, doing nothing but spreading the increasingly finer crumbs through the pile. Once he had retrieved as much of the orange dust as he could, Anders yelled in frustration, throwing the brush across the room and over Rigby's head. It sailed past the TV and knocked over a cluster of items, smashing something unseen as it fell from the table it was perched on. Panting with anger, he sat back, bringing his legs around in front of him. With a sigh, he leaned back against the sofa, sat on the floor. Mordecai and Rigby stared, not knowing what to do at all. "Forget it." Anders murmured. They were silent for a while, contemplating what to do in such a tense and unpredictable moment. Mordecai managed to gather the courage to speak first, leaning forward to try and make eye contact from the side.

"Anders?" He tentatively began, sounding unsure.

"What?" The badger replied gruffly, running his hands up from his forehead, bunching up the greasy black and red bangs between his fingers.

"What's up, dude?" He asked, hoping they could help.

"Nothing." His reply was an obvious defence. Mordecai shuffled a little closer across the couch cushions, Settling a few feet away.

"You sure?" He hoped that he would not have to beg for a reply.

"Yes. I'm fine." His anger laced every word. "So let's do something else."

"Dude, you're not fine." Rigby interrupted. Mordecai shot him a panicked glance.

"What did you say?" Anders leaned in a way that suggested he was about to stand.

"Nothing?" Rigby shrank back, finding him even more intimidating than when they had first met.

"I hope so." He barked, sitting back again. The tension was killing them both as they watched Anders cautiously. He glared at them both, as if daring them to respond. When he finally broke eye contact, looking back to his knees, Mordecai considered a suitable reply. He saw his frustration with the state of his apartment, but the mess that he lived in was obviously far too overwhelming. His futile attempt at sorting the cheese curl spillage was testament to his predicament.

"Uhm, Anders?" He tested the water again. With a sigh, Anders replied.

"Yes?" Mordecai rubbed the back of his head and looked around the room for a moment.

"Well... You seem upset… about…"

"About?" He interrupted, frowning again.

"About your apartment." Mordecai took another breath before posing his question. Anders raised an eyebrow, waiting for the jay's next move. "Well, eheh…" He hesitated, hoping that these wouldn't be his last words. "…Well, we could… Ya know… Help you clean it up… maybe?" He ignored Rigby's horrified grimace.

"Dude!" Rigby hissed, not wanting to tidy up anything in the slightest. Mordecai silenced him with a finger held up to his beak and a stern stare. Rigby folded his arms and pouted childishly. Anders looked away and sighed again, far less upset than Mordecai had predicted. They waited for his reply.

"It… is a bit of a dump in here." The badger stated, scratching his chin as he thought about Mordecai's offer.

"Dude, you don't care about stuff like that, right?" Rigby wondered why he was even considering fixing up his own living room.

"Rigby." Mordecai warned, letting Anders speak.

"You'd help me get this place tidied up?" Anders asked, hoping they were being serious.

"Yeah dude." Mordecai answered with a nervous chuckle. He was relieved that Anders was on the verge of accepting his offer. He waited hopefully.

"Okay. Okay, yeah. Let's get this place fixed up." Anders picked himself up and dusted himself down, heading in to the kitchen to search for any cleaning materials he might have. "I think I've got some garbage bags in here, maybe." He smiled, his face softening so much that the contrast was almost scary. Mordecai looked back to Rigby and took a deep breath, sighing with relief.

"Mordecai... Why'd you do that?" Rigby put his hands on his hips and scowled. "Now we gotta work." "He's your friend, right?" Mordecai asked. "It's what friends do."

"Yeah, but… You volunteered me!" He complained.

"Stop whining. Go get that brush he threw." Mordecai demanded. "We're gonna help him."

"Hm!" Rigby stomped over to the small table next to the TV set and reached underneath it. "Ow!" He yelped as a sharp piece of glass nicked his finger. "Stupid glass!"

"Dude, stop complaining, seriously!" Mordecai picked up his crutches and rocked forwards, making an effort to stand.

"Wait! Mordecai. Come look at this." Rigby seemed suddenly excited.

"What, Rigby? Did you find a shiny bottle cap or something?" Mordecai said sarcastically.

"No, man. It's a photo." He picked up the simple wooden picture frame, inspecting the photo underneath the shattered glass.

"So? People have photos in frames." Mordecai limped towards Rigby, looking over his shoulder at what he held in his hands. It appeared to be a family photo; mother, father, son and daughter. They all had black-striped white faces and dark hair.

"Who do you think they are?" Rigby asked, looking up at Mordecai.

"It's one of his family photos, you idiot." He leaned forward, steadying himself on his crutches and taking a closer look. He noticed Rigby's finger, bleeding slightly. "Dude, you cut yourself." He casually mentioned.

"Oh…Yeah, I did." Rigby looked back towards the tiny pin-prick at the tip of his finger. A droplet of scarlet blood had formed, slowly growing until it formed a drop that had enough weight to fall away. It landed on the spider-web cracked glass, splashing across the face of the young boy in the picture. He immediately seemed familiar.


	8. Chapter 8: Instant Memories

Chapter 8: Instant memories.

A microfibre cloth smeared the cheap detergent across the mirror. As it passed, a pair of focused eyes, frowning with concentration, appeared in the glass. The cloth made another pass, creating more streaks on the already rather grubby surface. A tongue had now joined the eyes in the reflection. A whiny growl of annoyance reverberated around the cramped, tiled bathroom. "Dude, it's not coming off." Rigby complained as he started to scrub at a tiny spot of what he hoped to be toothpaste. "This stuff sucks." He sighed with exasperation while Mordecai turned himself around with as much grace as an 18-wheeler, due to the lack of space in the claustrophobic room.

"Dude, just try a bit harder, okay?" He was sure that the grime on the mirror wouldn't be all that hard to shift. He put the lack of progress down to the usual reasons. "Are you even putting pressure on the rag?" He cocked an eyebrow in a scrutinising manner.

"I'm tellin' you dude! I've been scrubbing this stain for like five whole minutes." Rigby complained, turning to face his friend and throwing both hands towards the reflective surface, as though it enhanced his argument. Mordecai seemed unimpressed.

"We've only been in here for a few seconds, man. It takes a bit longer than that." He turned back to the shower cubicle and continued scrubbing the higher parts of the glass door that Rigby would be unable to reach. As opposed to the raccoon's handiwork, the shower was turning out spotless.

"I'm not going til this place is at least a bit nicer." Mordecai stated, drawing the line that they were aiming for. "I don't want to just leave you guys wallowing in this pit-"

"Pit?" Came a voice from the open bathroom door. Mordecai jumped on the spot.

"Did I say pit? I meant...I uh...okay, I meant pit." He stammered, looking for a retreat before he resigned, visibly shrinking with embarrassment as Anders folded his arms with a scowl across his painted face. After a seemingly endless silence, he replied.

"Yeah, I guess this place is a bit of a sty." Anders surprisingly agreed with Mordecai's somewhat harsh choice of words. They knew that he wanted their help, but Mordecai and Rigby couldn't shake the feeling that it was beyond Anders to even care about the state of his apartment.

"Well, I hope what we're doing is helping." Mordecai timidly continued, rubbing his forehead with the back of his scrubbing hand.

"It is." Almost as suddenly as he had appeared, Anders turned and disappeared again. He retreated in to the kitchen to sort through the stack of dirty dishes that was piled in to the sink.

"Huh..." Rigby started, staring with a mix of embarrassment and smug satisfaction as he beheld the obvious blush around Mordecai's cheeks. "...you nearly stepped in it then, dude."

"Quiet!" Mordecai shot a glare across the bathroom at him, vigorously returning to his cleaning duties. Rigby sniggered, revelling in his friend's faux-pas for the moment.

Anders looked at the plates that haphazardly balanced on each other in the kitchen sink. They were all filthy, coated in grease from bygone meals, with elements of mould appearing in the remnants of food that still clung to the porcelain. He grimaced and looked at his hands, still bearing the black, fingerless gloves that had become second nature to him. His gaze moved up to his forearms, settling on the silver polyester jacket he so adored. He couldn't really recall how long he had owned them, but they were both as much a part of him as his own personality; a statement, an identity, a charade. He took a deep breath in and sighed. He was going to have to remove them, so as not to get them orange-stained with pizza grease, old ketchup or mustard. He lowered the zip from its usual half-mast position and slid the jacket off of his shoulders. It hung from his elbows, his forearms still occupying the sleeves. He pulled off his gloves one at a time, thinking for a moment as to where to put them. He peered around for a clear space to relocate them to, but could find not a single unused spot of the kitchen. They took up residence in Anders' jeans pockets, probably much safer there than anywhere else in the apartment. He stepped out in to his living room once more, carefully removing his jacket entirely. He folded it half-heartedly and dumped it on to the sofa, turning on the spot to return to the kitchen to begin his chores.

Mordecai emerged from the bathroom first, navigating his way out through the door diagonally to give his arms enough room to manoeuvre his crutches. "Dude, if I go home, you'll just leave Anders to do all the work." He was followed by Rigby, who protested his statement.

"Not true!" He shot his reply with conviction, though he knew that Mordecai was at least ninety percent right. "I'd probably help him with... stuff." He shrugged and waved it off. Mordecai stopped and nudged the raccoon in the shoulder with the metal pole. "Hey! Don't start that again-..."

"Dude, look." Mordecai motioned to the kitchen, turning Rigby's attention.

"Oh sick dude! Why'd I want to see that?" He complained, pulling the expression of someone who had just eaten something sour. "He's like, nearly naked, ew!" He turned away in over-dramatic disgust.

"Can it Rigby. Why do you care about how much he's wearing anyway? You're naked all the time." Mordecai scolded. "Besides, it's not what I meant to show."

"It's not?" Rigby chuckled and lightly elbowed the jay in the hip.

"No." His serious tone killed Rigby's humour. "I mean, look at what's happening." Anders was scouring his dishes to a spotless finish, elbow-deep in suds. His face was oddly calm; sad perhaps, but not troubled. He stared for a moment longer, trying to figure out whether the badger had even more faces to his personality than he had first assumed.

"When you're done staring, shouldn't we be doing something?" Rigby complained, resisting the urge to bat his hand at Mordecai's sore foot. Mordecai grumbled.

"What, so you want to work now?" He frowned and looked down at his friend.

"I don't know. The sooner you finish up with being a suck-up, the sooner I can sleep." The raccoon shrugged.

"Ugh, just help me clear up his room." He made his way through the living room, towards the badger's bedroom. It was far easier for him to move now that the living room had visible floor space. They had very quickly cleared the carpet between the three of them, arranging the items in to two piles: trash and other. They had bagged up the trash and neatly stacked the other items so that Anders could decide what he wanted to keep and where it should all live. "We've only got one more room to sort before we can relax." Mordecai offered that fact as consolation for Rigby to cling on to.

As the blue jay awkwardly pushed his way through the half-open door, he was hit by a wave of strange odours: the sickly-sweetness of face paint; the smell of stale sweat, food and other equally unpleasant unknowns; as well as copious amounts of masculine deodorant used to try to mask the hideous smells. "Aw dude, it reeks in here!" Mordecai exclaimed. He was glad that Anders was too busy with the dishes to notice what he had blurted out upon being nearly taken off his feet by the back-draft.

"It ain't that b- oh what the heck man!" Rigby grabbed at his sensitive nose, closing off his nostrils from the barrage of olfactory offences. "I can taste it! Ugh!" He wheezed, stumbling towards the window at the far side of the room. He wrestled with the latch, trying to throw it open as soon as he could manage. He fumbled, wriggling the old metal until it finally gave up, desperately pushing at the window until it opened. It finally swung away from the frame, the hinges squeaking in protest. Rigby hung his head out of the window and gasped a well-needed breath of the cool night-time breeze that rolled by. Mordecai clicked his way across the bedroom towards his friend.

"Aw c'mon Rigby, the smell ain't that bad I guess." He shrugged off his initial reaction, his nose adjusting to the change. He took a look around, finally able to see the whole room. In the middle was a double bed, the covers screwed up in a messy pile on the top. Two collapsed-looking pillows lay crooked at the headboard with the occasional red smudge and yellowing drool stain. Mordecai looked at the state of the floor. It was much better than he had imagined it to be after having seen the living room. "Man, what's up with this? This place is... tidier." Rigby turned to face him.

"Yeah, but it stinks." He complained, wafting the air in front of his face. Mordecai shrugged.

"I think we're nearly done, dude." He took a closer look at the area near Anders' wardrobe. A few socks, shirt sleeves and various other loose items of clothing were either trapped in the wooden doors on the unit or discarded on the floor. "I guess I'll tidy up his clothes and stuff. You change the sheets." Mordecai stepped towards the wardrobe, pulling himself forward.

"Ew no! I'm not touching his nasty bed sheets." Rigby whined, frowning in his usual manner.

"Just do it, man." Mordecai commanded. "The sooner you do it, the better."

"I'm not doing it." Rigby folded his arms and looked away defiantly.

"C'mon dude! It'll take like five minutes. Also, you're not the one with a broken foot." Mordecai tried to reason with him, knowing full well that he couldn't physically manage making up Anders' bed in his current state. Rigby stamped his foot.

"Hmph!" He grumbled, swishing his tail.

"Come on, Rigby." Mordecai continued with a stern voice.

"Ugh, fine!" The raccoon threw his hands in to the air, turning back towards his friend with anguish on his face. "I'll change the stupid sheets." Rigby muttered something inaudible as he made his way out of the room.

Mordecai set to on the closet, pulling up what appeared to be a drummer's stool and parking his behind on it. He was thankful for taking the weight off of his good leg and his arms, finding the crutches to be exhausting, even for someone with his upper body strength. He sighed as felt the weight come off, careful not to bash his injured foot in to the floor. When he was comfortable, he pulled open the light wooden doors of the cheap-looking cupboard. He beheld a few piles of clothes and several smart, collared shirts and ties on hangers. It wasn't exactly what he was expecting from Anders, considering the clothes he seemed to wear all the time. "Huh." He murmured to himself, raising his eyebrows. "Weird." He reached out and picked up the two piles of clothes. They were poorly folded, creased and otherwise untidy, so he thought he could put himself to use by neatening them up. He was momentarily startled when he felt that one of the piles wasn't as tall as it first appeared, his fingers brushing against a shoebox.

Rigby stamped his way over to the kitchen, where Anders was still washing the dishes with his torso exposed. The raccoon winced over-dramatically at the sight. "Dude, where do you keep your sheets?" He called through the kitchen door. The badger stopped what he was doing, turning his head to make eye contact.

"Sheets?"

"You know, sheets, for the bed?" Rigby clarified, his inflection sarcastic and condescending.

"I know what sheets are, but why the hell do you want bed sheets?" Anders picked up a dish cloth and dried off his hands.

"Because we're going to change your bed sheets." Rigby replied flatly. He wondered how hard it was for Anders to understand this concept. Bed needs sheets, sheets come off bed, new sheets go on bed, process repeats. It was simple enough.

"What? No. Why are you guys cleaning my room? I didn't say you could go in there!" His temper flared at an alarming pace, his brow sloping inwards at a frightening angle. Rigby cowered as the larger man leaned forwards with his hands balled in to fists.

"Dude I didn't know! It was Mordecai's idea!" Rigby tried to push the blame off of himself, panicking slightly as the threat of murder lingered once again just feet away from his face.

"Where is he!? What is he doing?" Anders grabbed Rigby around his tiny bicep, his fingers clutching tightly.

"Stop it man! You're hurting my arm!" Rigby whimpered, grimacing as the badger dug his short claws in to his skin. Anders let him go, striding through the living room and kicking the door open with such ferocity that it slammed against the wall. The handle left a divot in the drywall. Mordecai looked up from the open shoebox that he had perched on his lap.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Anders screamed, diving forward to yank the tattered cardboard away from his guest. Mordecai floundered, his eyes wide open in shock as the badger clumsily darted past him, carrying the box away to the far side of the room. The angle at which he had snatched it up had allowed a small clutch of instant photographs to cascade over the side of the over-filled container and on to the floor. Anders hastily closed the box and set it aside before throwing himself over the remaining photos with the conviction of a bodyguard rushing to take a bullet for their charge. He scrambled to scrape them all up together, covering them with his entire body so that Mordecai and Rigby would not see. "Get out!" He yelled, his head still tilted towards the floor. "Out!"

"I'm sorry man! I didn't-"

"Now!" He screamed, hurting his throat as he did so. Mordecai stood up as quickly as he could manage, awkwardly bashing his injured foot against the closet as he regained his balance. He took his crutches and quickly hobbled out of the room, nudging Rigby out ahead of him. Rigby opened his mouth to complain, but Mordecai put a stop to it before he made anything worse.

"Dude just go. Go now." He directed Rigby across the living room towards the front door.

"Mordecai! All my stuff is in here!" Rigby hissed. Mordecai glared as if to say 'I told you so...' and nodded his head towards the door handle. Rigby gritted his teeth as he contained himself. He reached up for the handle and turned it, letting them both out on to the landing. He pulled it shut behind them, locking them both outside. They were silent for a while before Rigby began to gripe. "Aw man! He's got all my stuff! What do we do?"

"We'll come back later. C'mon, let's go back to the house!" Mordecai started on his way towards the elevator.

"My stuff might not be here later!" Rigby was reluctant to take a step away from the apartment entrance, wanting to guard it in case Anders surfaced.

"We'll come back to get it, I promise! Now let's get out of here!" Mordecai was shaking slightly as he reached out a finger to press the call button. Rigby didn't mention it. He didn't want to admit it, but he was just as unsettled as his friend. He realised now how stupid he had been.

"Alright. Alright, let's go." Rigby scampered across the landing to stand by the blue jay's side, waiting for the elevator to arrive. "Where are we going, by the way?" He asked, unsure where was now his safe haven. He could no longer return to the house at the park, and his bed was still at Anders' apartment. Mordecai was just as stumped as the raccoon.

"Uh, I don't know dude." He reached in to his memory to think of all the possible contacts that would be willing to put Rigby up for the night. It was already dark outside, and their options were running out fast. Rigby thought through the list of possible people who could help them out, coming to a conclusion that he knew Mordecai would probably criticise. He could think of nobody else, however, so he decided that it was that or night of homelessness.

"Dude, Margaret." Rigby threw the suggestion out, expecting it to be shot down skeet-style.

"What?" Mordecai frowned at his friend. "Dude, are you crazy?!" The chime that announced the elevator's arrival interrupted his flow for a moment. They both watched as the doors opened to reveal the empty interior of the tiny metal box. Mordecai clacked his way in, followed by Rigby, who hit the button for the ground floor. When the doors closed again, he continued. "No way dude! I can't just drop you on Margaret like that. She'd hate me forever!"

"She's probably still awake, man! Just call her! Quickly, before she goes to bed or something!" Rigby pleaded. He knew that Margaret's place was spacious and comfortable. "She has a spare room! And if you explain everything, maybe she'll understand." He reasoned, clasping his hands together in front of his chin and putting on his best puppy-dog eyes. Mordecai sighed and looked away for a moment.

"Uhhh, I don't know, dude." He sounded unsure, but it wasn't just the idea of asking Margaret for help that was making him feel uncomfortable. "What if she thinks it's just an excuse for me seeing her or something?"

"But..." Rigby began, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "...It's not that. Right?"

"Yeah, no...maybe, I don't know." Mordecai flustered, scratching at his stomach nervously.

"Dude, this is a matter of me possibly becoming a hobo. I can't be a hobo, dude. I can't!" He grabbed the jay's forearms and shook him weakly.

"C'mon man! I can't live on the streets! I'm not made for that sort of thing!" He looked around the elevator as Mordecai's reply was not forthcoming.

"Okay, well, maybe I'd be okay on the streets, but I don't want to get like mugged or anything."

"Okay dude! I get it." Mordecai grumbled and rolled his eyes, reaching for his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he arrived at Margaret's details. He gulped, his thumb hovering over the 'call' button. "Uhhh..."

"C'mon man! Do it!" Rigby urged him on.

"I don't know, man..." Mordecai hesitated again. Rigby growled with growing frustration and grabbed his friend's hand, pushing down his thumb against the little green button. Mordecai's heart jumped in to his throat as he saw the row of dots moving across the screen. "Dude!" He shrieked. Rigby smirked.

"Oh look, you called her." He chuckled, thinking he had won Mordecai over with his brash action. Mordecai panicked and quickly tapped the red button at the opposite side of the phone. He cupped the phone close to his stomach so Rigby couldn't get at it. "Mordecai! What the heck?!" He punched the blue jay in the arm, scowling.

"Oh no, this is bad! what if she calls me back?!" He was tense, feeling his pulse thumping in his throat. "Oh man, oh man!" He stared down at his phone, wishing that she had not heard the call.

"Dude, c'mon! I need you to talk to her for me! Call her back!" Rigby demanded.

"Rigby, shut up! You've got a cell, you call-" He was cut off by the sudden vibration in his hand. He stared in terror as the cheerful face of his crush smiled back from the tiny screen.

"Pick up!" Rigby yelled, striking Mordecai's arm.

"No!" Mordecai snapped.

"Do it!" Rigby needed Mordecai to answer before Margaret gave up.

"No!"

"She'll think we were pranking her if you don't, dude!" Rigby tried to guilt-trip him another way, staring wide-eyed to add to the seriousness of his tone. Mordecai faltered before clicking the answer button and holding the phone up to his ear.

"Hello, Margaret?" Mordecai started with a nervous lump in his throat. The elevator doors opened.

"Man, long elevator ride..." Rigby muttered, stepping out in to the lobby. Mordecai limped out after him, dragging one of his crutches by the plastic loop as it hung from his forearm.

"Oh. Hi Eileen." Mordecai sounded surprised, but relieved; though his awkwardness still pervaded him. "Yeah we...we're in the neighbourhood." He chuckled nervously. "Oh she is? You are?"

"What's she saying?" Rigby whispered, eager to know what was happening. Mordecai silenced him with a glare.

"Oh yeah...yeah of course...okay. Sure, we'll be... there soon." He gulped. "Okay, Eileen. See you later." The jay's cheeks were reddening fiercely.

"Mordecai, what's going on?" Rigby yelled impatiently.

"That was Eileen." Mordecai started, pausing for a moment. Rigby frowned.

"Uh huh. I didn't know it was Eileen." His sarcasm was dripping from every word.

"Shut up!" Mordecai barked. He composed himself, picking up his words again. "Well, Eileen said Margaret was just... getting out of the shower..." Rigby giggled to himself. Mordecai resisted the urge to knock him down with one of his sticks. "...and Eileen called me, for her...and they're having a party or something. I mean, like a girls' night, but now it's not gonna be a girls night because now we're invited to go to... girls' night that isn't girls' night any more because-"

"Dude, I get it." Rigby sighed and started to make his way out of the building. Mordecai quickly put away his phone and took hold of his crutch again. He caught up with his friend, running what had just happened through his head.

"Should we get snacks? We can stop by the gas station and get some stuff. Is my hair okay? Do you think she'll care about the cast? I haven't spoken to her since I broke my foot. I wonder if she'll pity-"

"Stop." Rigby huffed, already sick of Mordecai's nervous twittering. "Let's just get there, okay?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah okay." Mordecai cleared his throat, staying silent as they made their way down the road towards Margaret's home.

* * *

_Author's notes:_

_So I've finally introduced Margaret and Eileen to the story. Kinda._

It may very well be that Anders does not appear personally in the next chapter at all.

Well, this concludes the Pastebin chronicles... I do hope you have all enjoyed it so far! Don't forget to check my Tumblr for updates to the story or any illustrations I may stick there. I do draw other stuff too, if anyone is interested. 

_-Sy_


	9. Chapter 9: Movie Night

Soda:

Chapter 9: Movie Night.

The night was cool, but not unpleasantly so. The sky was a shade of deep blue that preceded the inky blackness of midnight, the rest of the world taking on the yellow hue of sodium-vapour street lamps. Their shadows lengthened and shortened as they passed each lamp post, multiplying and overlapping in the abundant light sources. "...all I'm saying is, you should talk to Benson about him hiring you again." Mordecai reasoned, after having tried to convince his friend for a solid five minutes.

"No way, man! I prefer being free. It's as nature intended." Rigby replied, smirking as he put on an over-confident swagger.

"Dude, you're homeless, and you're broke. Also, you're walking like a cowboy, stop." Mordecai put these reasons forward, but they weren't the only ones he had to hand. Rigby sunk back in to his normal gait and remained silent for a moment as he tried to find a reason not to go grovelling to his former employer.

"Yeah, but... I'm happy." He shrugged and looked up at his much taller companion. "It's not like I get forced to work or anything any more."

"Dude, listen to me; you need to go and ask for your job back. You have to, man." Mordecai didn't want to sound like he was begging, but he knew that he was going to miss Rigby a lot if he would not secure his position at the park once more.

"Why though, Mordecai? Besides the fact that I don't wanna do it; if I wanted a job, there are loadsa places I could find one." Rigby scratched behind one of his own ears.

"Because... because you're a great park grounds keeper." His reply sounded more questioning than he intended, as though he was testing the water. Rigby didn't buy it.

"Yeah right. I'm terrible at that junk, and you know it." Rigby folded his arms, a slight self-depreciative attitude rising to the surface.

"What? No, no dude. You're great!"

"No, Benson was totally right: I'm a liability." Rigby sighed, hanging his head minutely.

"A...liability? He said that?" Mordecai knew that the only way such a 'complicated' word would stick with him was if it meant something.

"He said that I'm insufferable and I only think about myself." Rigby kicked a stone, watching it skitter away on to the dark, empty road.

"Well..." Mordecai began. Rigby looked up at him with a scowl.

"Well, what?" Mordecai stammered nervously.

"Uh...I gotta admit dude; you can be kinda selfish..." The raccoon opened his mouth, ready to retaliate. "...only sometimes! I can be selfish too. Everyone's selfish sometimes." Mordecai forged ahead with his words, hoping he hadn't offended him too much. Rigby's expression softened as he looked ahead again. "Sorry Rigby." Mordecai murmured, feeling stupid for even considering agreeing with Benson. He should be taking his friend's side, and he knew it. "I didn't mean to..."

"No, Mordecai, you're right." Rigby folded his arms, bringing his shoulders up defensively.

"You're not selfish, Rigby. What about those baby ducks? You remember them? The ducks?" Mordecai put on a higher tone of voice, but it just came across as condescending.

"Yeah. The ducks." Rigby's inflection was flat and sarcastic.

"You looked after those ducks, man." Mordecai was already running short of examples of Rigby's selflessness, but he wanted to demonstrate that Rigby wasn't exactly the most self-centred individual on the planet.

"Yeah, I guess." Rigby remained tensed up, but Mordecai said nothing as they ascended the stairs and arrived on Margaret's doorstep. The blue jay reached up his hand, his crutch momentarily dangling from his forearm as he knocked. They waited awkwardly until someone finally opened the door.

They heard the tumblers click open as a key turned, followed by a chain being pulled back, before the door swung open. It was Eileen. "Oh, hey." She greeted them in her understated voice, though her enthusiasm was palpable. "Come on in Margaret's just getting dressed." She held the door open for them, stepping aside to let them cross the threshold. Mordecai coughed nervously at the very mention of his crush in such a situation. As he stepped in to the light, Eileen gasped. "Oh, Mordecai! What happened?" Mordecai stopped in the living room, balancing on his crutches as Eileen stared at the cast on his foot.

"It's kind of a dumb story." Mordecai felt as though he was put on the spot, feeling mildly embarrassed by her inquisitive nature. Eileen thought for a second.

"Oh, well. I guess Margaret's going to want to know, too. You can tell us when we're all together." She turned to Rigby, realising she hadn't properly greeted him yet. The raccoon rolled his eyes when she looked at him. "Hey Rigby..." She tried to sound sweet, as always.

"Hey Eileen." Rigby's apathy was overwhelming.

"I hope you're not hurt too." She seemed concerned, but Rigby didn't really care. The biggest vocal response he could give was a short grumble, joined by a half-hearted shrug. Eileen shuffled her feet uncomfortably as she was, yet again, blown off by her sweetheart. "Uhm... So... would you guys like a drink, or something?" She offered, looking up to Mordecai, who offered a more positive reaction.

"Oh uh, I guess so, yeah." He chuckled nervously as they remained awkwardly stood by the door. "Could I have a soda, with ice?...Please!" He added his manners to the end quickly, not wanting to offend her. A drink was the least of his worries at that moment, but he wanted to seem engaging, even though his mind was wandering elsewhere. Eileen looked to Rigby again.

"Oh, yeah. I'll have one too." He rudely ushered her away with a wave of his hand; as if dismissing her from the Pizza King's court. Eileen slunk off in to the kitchen, downtrodden. Mordecai lowered his eyebrows sternly, aiming his gaze towards the raccoon. "What?" Rigby fired off, holding up his hands as though he had no idea what was wrong.

"That was mean, Rigby." Mordecai criticised him.

"Was it?" He seemed not to know what he meant.

"You could act a bit better around her, dude. She's just trying to be nice."

"Whatever, man." Rigby pattered across the floor, sitting himself on the couch. Mordecai hobbled after him, grumbling, but he dropped the subject before it turned in to an argument. The last thing he wanted was to show himself up in front of Margaret. He stayed standing until he was invited to sit, hoping to greet Margaret as she appeared through the door.

Soon, the jingling of ice cubes against glass announced Eileen's return. She entered the room with two servings of cola, handing one to Rigby first. He took the glass without thanking her, prompting Mordecai to clear his throat to catch his attention. Rigby rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Eileen." He said flatly. Mordecai accepted it as the best that Rigby was going to do. Eileen took it as an extreme positive, smiling sweetly as she turned around to Mordecai; her head being the last part to follow. Mordecai removed one of his crutches, leaning on the other to keep himself upright. He propped it up against the wall and accepted his drink gratefully.

"Thanks Eileen!" He tried to show some enthusiasm to make up for that which Rigby lacked. The raccoon noticed and grumbled to himself.

"No problem, guys! Margaret will be out in a minute. I'll just go get some snacks." She bustled away in to the kitchen, affording another quick glance at Rigby with a bashful smile on her face.  
When she was safely out of earshot, Mordecai hissed at his friend. "Dude, what's the matter with you?"

"What?" Rigby raised his eyebrows to try and seem innocent.

"I get it, you don't like all the attention she gives you, but you don't have to be so mean to her." Mordecai frowned, feeling sorry for the young woman who so kindly offered them refreshments. Rigby was quiet. "Well?" They continued to keep their voices down, considering the open-plan layout of Margaret's apartment.

"What do you want me to do; pretend that I do like her?" Rigby folded his arms and pouted. Mordecai chuckled. "What?" He sniggered again.

"What?!" Rigby barked.

"It's nothing, dude." He tried to stifle the laughter that was slowly building behind his tongue.

"No, Mordecai! You're making fun of me! I know you are!" Rigby's whiny voice shot the accusation across the room.

"No man, really. I'm-"

"Yes you-" Rigby interjected, but Mordecai pulled the focus back to himself once more.

"You don't have to pretend that you like her, dude..." Mordecai presented the statement in an apologetic tone, yet again lowering the volume. Rigby seemed to relax, slumping back in to his seat before Mordecai delivered the punch-line. "...Because you really do." He laughed heartily, making the raccoon jump up with anger, screaming as he dashed across the room to strike out at his friend. Mordecai continued to laugh and just took the punches. They slapped impotently against his feathers with a dull thumping noise. "Okay Rigby, you can stop now." He sipped his drink and waited until Rigby tired himself out. The tiny man continued to thrash, shouting with every swing.

"I. Hate. You. Why. Won't. You. Stop. Agh!" With a final shriek he wore himself out. He made his way back to the couch and plopped himself on to the cushions once more. Mordecai chuckled some more, tipping his head back and taking another draught of his drink. Rigby glowered. "I don't like Eileen." He said resolutely.

"Hmm, hmm!" Mordecai taunted. "Keep telling yourself that." Rigby growled and raised a hand, stopping and pretending as though nothing had happened as Margaret made her entrance to the living room. It was obvious from the conviction in his friend's movements that he was about to make a one-fingered salute. Mordecai knowingly put on a smug grin, revelling in his thwarted effort.

"Hey guys!" Margaret seemed very enthusiastic, posing almost casually as if to show off her handiwork. She looked just as she always did, albeit wearing something other than her uniform. Mordecai wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Hey Margaret." He tried to smile to her, but it looked more like an embarrassed grimace. "How's it going?" He took another sip of his drink as an excuse to stop his tongue. Margaret was about to answer in her usual calm manner, but caught a more detailed look of Mordecai as she focused on him.

"Mordecai! what happened to you?" She brought her hands up to her face with the slight shock that swept over her. The surprise stemmed more from the double-take of noticing the cast and walking sticks, rather than the idea of Mordecai breaking his foot in the first place. She knew it would have happened eventually, what with their childish antics.

"Oh, this? It's nothing." The jay blushed, looking towards the floor.

"How did you break it?" She seemed genuinely concerned. Mordecai took it as a good sign.

"Oh, just... an accident at work. You know; it comes with the territory." He tried to pass it off as a day-to-day occurrence; playing it as coolly as he could.

"Mordecai dropped my trampoline on his foot." Rigby called out. Margaret impulsively laughed out loud, catching herself before it got out of hand. She looked as though she felt partly ashamed.

"Dude!" Mordecai yelped, panicking slightly as Rigby hacked his nonchalance to pieces.

"You shoulda seen the hole his fat head left in the drywall." Rigby checked his fingernails with a smirk, sucking up what was left of his friend's confidence and turning it against him.

"Oh man that sounds like it was fun-... uh..." Margaret's smile quickly faded, replaced by a guilty blush. "...painful." She nervously peered over at Mordecai, who was scowling at Rigby over her shoulder. "Sorry Mordecai." She carefully approached him, wanting to make up for her mistake. "You need some help sitting down or something?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, grasping the corresponding elbow with the other. Mordecai felt his heart jump in to his throat. Rigby watched with amusement plain on his face.

"Uh. Uh no, it's... Yeah, sure. I mean... okay." Mordecai stammered, slowly going along with it. Margaret gently helped him over to the leather couch and lowered him down on to the seat. He thanked her timidly, setting his other crutch down next to the one that was already leaning against the wall. All the while, Rigby watched intently, rather enjoying the embarrassment Margaret's assistance had brought about.

"So, uh. You guys are out late. It didn't take you that long to get here, so I'm assuming you weren't at the park." Margaret's voice wasn't accusing, as such; but it made the two of them feel uncomfortable, like they had been caught misbehaving in class.

"Uh, yeah. We were just, ya know, visiting a... friend." Mordecai used the last word with some disdain. He knew that Anders had problems, and that he was most certainly dangerous; but he had proven himself to be just as capable of pleasantry as he was of violence. Besides, Mordecai had decided that perhaps it wasn't the best idea to let Margaret know exactly who this friend was; so he tried not to make a big deal about it.

"Oh, you guys made a new friend?" Margaret asked as she sat herself in the wicker egg-chair next to the couch.

"Yeah, just some guy who comes to the park sometimes. He's alright, yeah. Have you two had a nice day?" Mordecai quickly tried to dance around the subject so that he wouldn't have to go in to detail.

"Why didn't you invite him along? It'd be fun to meet someone new!" Margaret smiled.

"He's busy." Mordecai tried to sound disappointed.

"Yeah, being a complete psycho." Rigby muttered, prompting Mordecai to nudge him with his elbow. He complained, but quickly quietened down.

"Sorry, Rigby, I didn't quite get that." Margaret said, hoping that he would repeat himself.

"He said 'yeah, building a motorcycle.' Heh heh...uhm." Mordecai's save only served to open the door to more questions.

"Oh, wow! So he's a mechanic?" Margaret's face lit up. "I dated a guy who was a mechanic once." Mordecai coughed. Rigby took the line and ran with it.

"Oh, I bet he was great." He urged Margaret to give a gooey description of her ex-boyfriend to make Mordecai even more uncomfortable.

"Mmm, he was so handsome and rugged; he had such strong hands too." She continued, making the jay choke on his own saliva. He spluttered, leaning forwards in the chair and bashing his injured foot in to the floor. He tried to yelp, but his momentary coughing fit drowned him out. "Oh Mordecai! Are you okay?" Margaret started to stand, ready to help at a moment's notice, but Mordecai flapped a hand, motioning for her to sit down again. He cleared his throat painfully and wheezed.

"I'm okay, don't worry." He coughed again, bringing his knee up to his chest to get a closer look at his cast. Margaret sat down slowly, watching to see if he had damaged the plaster. He sighed as he lowered his foot again. It seemed to be fine, but his foot was hurting rather a lot.

Before their interaction became any more of a train wreck, Eileen reappeared bearing two platefuls of party snacks. Various cheesy nibbles, crunchy pretzels, and other delicious savouries were placed on the coffee table in front of them. "Here you go, guys!" She was enthusiastic, but still sounded rather shy. Mordecai wondered if she was as shy around them as she was around others. Margaret and Mordecai both thanked her politely, but Rigby said nothing yet again. He dug his tiny hands in to the piles of snacks and started to shovel them greedily. Mordecai flung an elbow yet again, making the raccoon wince. Margaret ignored the exchange and tried to distract them both.

"So, how are you guys doing? How's the job at the park?" She steered the conversation towards what she believed to be a fairly mundane topic; unaware of what had gone on since they had last seen each other. Mordecai and Rigby both sheepishly stopped snacking and looked around the room for a moment; occasionally glancing at each other for cues, silently communicating with ever changing facial expressions. Margaret wasn't particularly slow on the uptake, and her smile faded. "Something happened, huh." It was a more accusing tone than she would have liked, but she saw no sense in dwelling on it.

"Benson lost his gum-balls after Mordecai got hurt, and he got all pissy at me." Rigby jumped to his own defence. "He was acting real crazy; like, totally nuts."

"So, what happened?" Margaret tried to rectify her implied accusation by sounding friendlier.

"Well, they wouldn't take me to the hospital to see Mordecai, so I gave a sandwich to Muscleman and he was all like-"

"Dude." Mordecai urged him to get to the point, fearing that his story would become tangential.

"He fired me."

"That's terrible, Rigby!" Eileen replied, sounding genuinely sympathetic, but mostly looking to catch his attention once more.

"Yeah, Rigby; that sounds pretty rough." Margaret tried to stay on his side, though she wasn't entirely sure of the fine details. She was going to take his word for it that Benson had truly lost it. Mordecai picked up the thread and continued, backing up Rigby's retelling.

"Yeah; Skips has been acting real weird too. When Benson fired Rigby, he walked out. He quit! Can you believe that? That's gotta say something about Benson, right?" He gestured with his hands, thankful to be free of his crutches for a while.

"Maybe he's been under a lot of stress?" Eileen suggested.

"This is Benson we're talking about; he's always under a lot of stress." Rigby huffed and folded his arms. "Still doesn't mean I deserved what I got."

"Dude, we can try and get your job back, you know." Mordecai picked up their conversation from their journey to Margaret's apartment. "I'll talk to Benson about it tomorrow."

"Forget it, Mordecai. I've had enough of working in that dump." Rigby dismissed his suggestion, thinking back on all the times he'd been shouted at for being a lazy good-for-nothing. "I wanna work somewhere new." Mordecai looked at his knees for a moment.

"But, that park is great; we've worked there for ages." Rigby looked to his right and spotted his friend's face, looking downtrodden. He made an uncharacteristic attempt to raise Mordecai's spirits.

"Yeah, man. We did. It's been really awesome and stuff. I just, you know... I wanna try something new. Ya know?" He hoped a change in wording would ease any damage his impulsive response may have caused. Mordecai sighed.

"Yeah, yeah I know." He was having a hard time accepting it, but he certainly couldn't tell Rigby what to do. It was his own life, after all. They were all quiet for a moment as everyone thought through where to take the conversation next.

"So, do you still live at the park?" Eileen spoke up, finding the silence to be more awkward than anything she had ever known.

"Uhm..." Rigby began, uncertain on what to say. They had originally planned to come and ask if Rigby could stay the night; but when it came down to it, it was harder to admit than he had first thought. "...well, the thing is... I, uh..." He stammered, fiddling with his fingers and thinking for a less direct way to approach it.

"Aw, Rigby! Did Benson kick you out of the house too?" The tiny woman sounded shocked and appalled. The raccoon slowly nodded, feeling slightly patronised, but unable to put it any other way. Margaret shot a quick glance at her friend, hoping that she wasn't going to do what she thought she was going to do.

But she did.

"Well, Margaret's spare room is still free, you know!" Eileen chirped sweetly. "You could crash here! I'm sure Margaret wouldn't mind. Would you?" She turned to the robin, who was trying to hide her annoyance.

"Uh, well..." She started, rubbing the back of her head as she suddenly became nervous. She didn't want to seem callous or hostile. There was really no reason why Rigby wouldn't be able to stay in the room; since she very rarely used it herself. She hummed uncertainly for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons in her head. "Well, I know you're not earning right now, Rigby. This must all be very hard for you, what's happened." Rigby nodded and waited quietly for a definite response."Thing is, this apartment is kinda expensive with just one person living here. If you were staying here, I'd be paying more on the bills and stuff."

"Oh." Rigby looked disappointed, his mind suddenly turning to other options. He wondered if Anders had calmed down enough to take pity, but the idea of returning after what had happened scared him. Margaret quickly elaborated.

"Well, what I mean is... Uh. Well, it'll cost a bit more, but I'm good for it... for now, anyway." She forced a giggle, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh...oh really? You mean it?" Rigby perked up, leaning forward in the chair. "So I can stay?" Eileen stared at Margaret with a smile. Mordecai joined in, hoping that a positive expression on his face would help sway her decision. She made eye contact with all three of them in succession, before finally conceding.

"I guess it's okay, yeah." She shrugged, keeping up her smile.

"That's great!" Mordecai blurted out. "Thank you! We weren't sure what to do when Benson kicked him out. Sorry this was all so short notice." He hoped his polite manners would draw the attention away from his friend for just a moment, but Rigby was still very much in the spotlight.

"Yes!" Rigby punched the air triumphantly, not caring all that much for manners as he revelled in the relief. "I promise I'll keep this place tidy and stuff. You won't even know I'm here." Mordecai could already tell that he had no intention of keeping his promise.

"Well, I'm sure you'll start looking for work pretty soon. I've only just paid the bills for this month, so I guess you've got another month before we have to pay again." Margaret was already thinking through facts and figures.

"So, do I pay you every month, then?" Rigby asked.

"Oh! Oh, no that's not... not quite what I meant. I'm sure that once you've got a job, you could find a cheap place to stay. I'm sure you wouldn't want to be hanging around here... with me... you know, cramping your style." She laughed nervously as she very quickly back-pedaled. She resolved to think more carefully before she spoke in future. Rigby looked slightly confused, his disappointment starting to creep on to his face.

"Dude, don't look so down about it. Margaret's offering you a room! With a bed!" Mordecai started, trying to highlight the positives. "It'll cost way less than living on your own. This is great! You should be happy."

"I know. You're right." Rigby sighed, trying to muster up a smile again. "Okay, this is great. Really great, seriously. Thanks Margaret." He timidly brought up his manners, feeling slightly guilty for wanting to stay longer. Mordecai was sometimes able to bring him in-check, with regards to being too demanding or rude. It was only in hindsight, so he knew he still had a long way to go in becoming a fully-fledged gentleman; but he was thankful of the restraint once in a while.

"Hey, it's what friends are for, isn't it?" Margaret shrugged, as if to say 'no big deal' and left it at that. "Where's your stuff, anyway?" She asked, curious as to why he was so empty-handed, despite wanting to stay. Rigby looked to Mordecai for a snappy answer. The blue jay quickly stammered before retrieving a half-truth.

"Uhm, it's still being packed up."

"Yeah, but Mordecai will look after it for me back at the house." Rigby embellished the white lie to avoid any suspicion, should they struggle to retrieve Rigby's affects from Anders' house following his outburst. Margaret bought it; dropping the subject almost as quickly as it had reared.

"Alright then, well; the sheets are fresh on the bed, so that's all ready." She reached out and scooped up a handful of snacks, picking them out of the tiny pile with her other hand, one by one. She forewent manners as she spoke, munching on a couple of pretzels. "How about we watch a film, then? I got Gratuitous Explosions 3: Bang Time last week, but I've not seen it yet. I wonder if there's another title-drop in this one." Mordecai and Rigby looked to each other, still perplexed by Margaret's love of action movies, but hardly opposed to it.

They both chanted in unison.

"Movie night!"

* * *

Author's Notes:

Well, it's been a long time coming, but here is chapter 9! Fresh off the press (after stagnating for a fortnight). I've doodled two little things for this chapter, so be sure to check out my Tumblr blog for those!

Also this is the first time I've drawn Eileen, so I'm not sure what to think of it yet.

This chapter serves as a kind of rest after all the stuff that's been going on with Anders in the previous chapters. I thought it was necessary to reaffirm  
Mordecai and Rigby's places as main-characters. The focus will shift back to Anders again later, so I wanted to keep the balance right.

Hope you're all enjoying it!

_-Sy_


	10. Chapter 10: A Cheezy Grin

Soda

Chapter 10: A Cheezy Grin

The red-tinted darkness surrounded him; bloody nebulae and flickering stars. He was upright, of that he was sure; his arms unbound and his feet firmly planted. He knew he had to keep moving; to fight through the endless claustrophobic space. Something unspeakable was following him, something he caught glimpses of in his peripheral vision, startling him at every given opportunity. Whatever it was, it was going to find him if he gave up the struggle. He called out, hoping to find solace in a friendly face. Nobody answered. He picked up the pace, breaking in to a run, panting as he panicked through the void. He could hear his feet clacking against nothing, a dead silence swallowing whatever natural echo there may have been.

He ran for what seemed like a fruitless eternity; his throat and lungs beginning to burn from his sharp intakes of breath. He called out again. He ran in to something, hitting it head on. He felt pain shoot through his skull, down his spine; radiating from within and threatening to turn him inside-out. He screamed in agony as he rebounded against the unseen surface, roughly colliding with the floor on his back. He clutched at his face, pushing his palms in to his eyes in an effort to dull the pain. As the phosphene sprawled across his vision, swirling patterns and flashing lights; he felt his headache recede until, eventually, it bearable enough for him to open his eyes once more.

He was in a room now; bright sunlight slightly blinding him as it streamed in from between two familiar green curtains. He looked down at his feet, feeling pressure against his icy-cold toes. Someone was sat on the floor next to him, though they were obscured by the unnaturally bright glow reflecting on the settling airborne dust. He thought it impossible for him to be looking at a silhouette, as the figure was not directly blocking the light from the window; yet that is what he beheld. For a brief moment, he was sure that he saw the sunlight glint off of a smile that manifested itself across the unseen face. He followed a skinny arm towards his foot, connected to the newcomer's shoulder. As he let his eyes focus, he started to notice familiar aspects of this newcomer. He thought as hard as he could, drawing on a list of names. He mentally scrolled through them, reaching for the name that made the most sense.

He posed his name questioningly. The figure nodded. It was subtle, but it was most certainly a nod. He felt relieved, smiling with joy as he finally found someone to hear him out. He needed the protection and the loyalty of his most trusted friend to truly face whatever unimaginable horror had been bearing down on him.

He yelped as the figure twisted and pulled on the two slender, black toes in his hand. There was a sickening 'crack' as the vivid and familiar shock shot up his leg. He screamed out loud as he felt the bones shatter at the hands of betrayal. He wanted to ask why, to shout until he could shout no longer; but the unimaginable pain stopped his words dead. The raccoon stood and walked past him, leaving the jay sprawled out on the floor, writhing and folding in the unrelenting agony. He tried to form his anguished cries in to coherent words, but nothing came; only vaguely hinting at sorrow and confusion. The raccoon turned to face him after leaving the room, smirking and waving from the doorway before the door slammed shut with unexpected force. The resounding bang cut out the light, leaving him in pitch darkness.

When he could finally collect his thoughts, he tried to call for help once more. His call echoed in to the distance. When he was sure nobody was coming, he fell silent, wondering and waiting. The pain in his foot was still burning brightly; his heart rate fast and his breathing laboured. There was a quiet tapping. It echoed much like his voice had done; a rhythmic sound that permeated the silence. The sound got closer, clearer.

Footsteps.

Someone was coming.

He spoke up; his voice husky and strained, begging for help.

There was another loud bang as a spotlight burst in to life, blinding him yet again. He squinted and shielded his eyes, trying to look past the dazzling white beam at the person he was now sure was stood over him. A scowling, grinning face, full of malice and sharp teeth bore down on him. He felt a knee touch down next to his chest as the figure knelt over his body.

"It is funny..."

Its voice was ethereal, layered in demonic chorus.

"...how much a moment can change everything."

It leaned forward, interrupting the spotlight's infernal glare.

He felt the short feathers on his face ruffled by its foul breath.

"A brief moment changed your life. It is rather funny, if you think about it."

He whimpered as he felt a clawed hand brush past his mangled foot.

"What bemuses me most, though; is the knock-on effect your little incident is having on everyone around you. The broken, the unemployed, the lost. It is as though misery follows in your wake. Yet, even with this negative aura that just pours from your every fibre; you somehow caused disarray of a most callous nature."

The creature leaned in closer, completely violating any notion of personal space. Mordecai turned his beak away to avoid it.

"You gave someone hope."

There was a tense moment of quiet, before a powerful fist crashed in to the floor next to his head. He flailed as the heavy impact startled him.

"How dare you. How very dare you."

Mordecai awoke with a start, shouting as he sat bolt-upright in his bed. He was panting, soaked in sweat. He could feel his injured foot pulsating with a radiant pain that reminded him of the first moment it broke. He moved it from its supporting pillow, wincing and shuffling around so that he sat sideways on the edge of his bed. He leaned forward with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He wasn't normally one to be frightened of anything his dreams could conjure, but something about his nightmare had spooked him. It was all so real, so vivid and lucid. He peered around the room; first to the spot in the corner of the room where Rigby's trampoline had been. The hole in the drywall was still in need of repair, and the dents in the floor marked exactly where the heavy metal frame had broken his foot. He continued to survey his surroundings, feeling paranoia still hanging over him. It had to have been a dream. It was all in his head.

Wasn't it?

He desperately needed to talk to someone about it all. He needed to see Rigby and try to make sense of it all with him, but he was still at Margaret's place, probably sleeping like a log. He checked his alarm clock. Six-thirty. It was Sunday, and he had no work to be getting on with. Typically, he would have liked a lie-in; to snooze until the late morning hours, but now he had developed a fear of his pillow. He did not want to meet the horror again; the terrible being who's image still clung to his subconscious.

The curtains fluttered gently in the early-morning breeze that floated in through the window. The scent of the summer flowers was subtle and calming, mingling with the sweet sounds of birdsong in the dawn chorus. The cool air was a welcome sensation to his aching body, partly erasing the horrid memories of the exhausting night's sleep. He basked in it for a moment, reaching for his crutches and laying them across his lap, sighing deeply to clear his head.

A knock at the bedroom door drew his attention. He tried to speak, but his throat was dry, making him splutter and cough. He cleared his throat, swallowing what little saliva he could muster. "Come in." He rasped. The door clicked open quietly, revealing a familiar and friendly face.

"Hello Mordecai. Sorry for intruding, but I heard a most horrifying yell not two minutes previously. Is something the matter?" Pops was in his bath robe; a luxurious and fluffy affair with his name embroidered on the lapel. Mordecai found it amusing how Pops would insist on wearing his hat, even when he wasn't dressed up. The thought made him smile subtly, cheering him up as it took his mind off of his subconscious ordeal.

"I'm...I'm okay I guess. Just a nightmare." Mordecai chuckled to make it seem like less of a big deal.

"It is not often that I hear of someone audibly screaming after a night terror." Pops seemed concerned. "It must have been dreadful to make you shout like that." He nudged the door open again and stepped in to the room. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, Pops. It's okay. I'll be fine." Mordecai waved a hand casually.

"Are you sure, Mordecai?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay. You don't need to get up so early because of me. Go back to bed and get some sleep." He didn't want to seem too demanding, but it certainly felt that he was being so.

"But Mordecai, I always get up early of a morning. I've slumbered since ten o'clock; enough to get the necessary eight hours." He smiled jovially, unknowingly one-upping the blue jay. Mordecai was quiet under Pops' innocent gaze. The gentleman waited patiently for the opportunity to help, somehow silently bringing an answer about with his persistence.

"Well, okay... Okay. We'll talk about it." Mordecai readied his crutches, putting his hands through the plastic loops and grasping the handles. "But let me just get washed up and stuff. We'll talk over breakfast."

He closed the bathroom door and locked it, leaving Pops to head downstairs on his own. Mordecai made his way over to the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. He looked quite rough, having only just arrived home not four hours ago. Margaret was kind enough to drive him back to the park after the movie had finished, but he hadn't been able to sleep comfortably until three in the morning. Mordecai removed his crutches, leaning them against the wall next to the basin. He turned on the cold tap, holding his fingers under the stream of cooling liquid and splashing it against his face. He felt the refreshing, icy water soak right through his short feathers and flow down his cheeks, dripping from the slightly longer feathers on his chin. He gasped at the sudden temperature difference, but it felt great. After such a stressful night's sleep, he was thankful of the awakening shock that it brought about. After another few moments washing his face, Mordecai set about his normal routine; completing the morning's ablutions and grooming his bed-feathers in preparation for breakfast.

He slowly descended the stairs, still getting used to his crutches as he hobbled down one step at a time. He was sure that he had only remained mostly upright so far due to his upper body strength. He thought that, if he could beat Rigby consistently at punchies, then he was certain to be able to handle a few walking sticks.

Eventually he made it to the kitchen, where Pops had already started to prepare breakfast for the both of them. He had several boxes of different cereals set out around the table, with a large jug of milk to share. Two bowls were laid out with a spoon next to each. Pops started pouring his own cereal. "I do rather enjoy a bowl of puffed wheat with honey and refrigerated cows' milk." Pops cheerfully proclaimed. Mordecai stepped closer to the table, approaching the chair in front of the extra bowl.

"Yeah, me too." He could not blame Pops for his eloquence, his innocence, and especially his eccentricity. In fact, it made him happy to hear someone enjoy life as much as Pops did; but Mordecai could not help but find his tone grating sometimes. Not wanting to offend, he played along, trying to seem agreeable.

"So, how is Rigby? I haven't seen him around the park recently." Pops tried to make small-talk over their breakfast.

"You didn't know? Benson fired him." Mordecai sounded surprised that Pops hadn't heard the news, but he knew that Pops could be quite slow on the uptake. "He's not allowed to live here any more." He placed his head on the palm of his hand and leaned on his elbow as he reached for the box of Chocolate WhatTheHecks, sighing.

"Oh, that is terrible!" He gasped. "I wonder what could be the matter with Benson. Have you tried appealing to his better nature?" Pops suggested. Mordecai grumbled as he poured out his breakfast.

"Pssh, what better nature?" He firmly slammed the cereal box down against the table. "He's crazy, Pops." He spoke out against his manager freely, knowing that he would not make an appearance at the park until at least ten o'clock. Sundays were usually very slow days for everyone.

"Now now, Mordecai; this may be a very bad show on his part, but it is no reason to resort to name-calling." Pops wagged a finger as he scolded the blue jay in a manner that seemed more like a recital.

"Ugh, you're right Pops; I'm sorry." He didn't particularly feel sorry, but he was usually wary around the older gent. He didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"So, did you ask him about reinstating Rigby to his original position at the park?" Pops asked again, taking a different approach.

"No... well...yeah I guess, maybe." Mordecai could barely think straight after his nightmare. He was having trouble remembering the finer details from the last few days. "I think he said no." Mordecai scratched his head.

"You think he said no? How can you be sure of that?" Pops sounded confused, tipping his head slightly.

"Well, Rigby's not allowed back here yet." Mordecai shrugged, taking that fact as evidence.

"Hm, well maybe I should have a word." Pops offered. The jay sometimes forgot about Pops' position in the park. His innocent nature masked his responsibilities.

"I don't know, Pops. I don't want to get Benson in to trouble or anything; I just want him to rethink it." Mordecai contained his contempt for his boss, figuring that a pleasant attitude would help their chances.

"I would only discuss the matter with him. Fear not, Mordecai; Benson's continued employment is not in question here." Pops smiled his usual smile and shovelled an overly-heaped spoonful of cereal in to his mouth.

"Well, I guess... you could have a talk with him about it." Mordecai poured milk on to his cereal, watching as the reddish-brown chocolate coating washed out of the tiny corn puffs and swirled through the white. For a moment, he thought he saw Rigby's face appear as the cereal drifted around in the bowl. Another sigh escaped him. "I'm so glad you wanted to talk about that weird nightmare, Pops. I guess my instinct was to talk to Rigby, but obviously he wasn't there. I don't know how I would have handled it if you hadn't offered to talk about it."

"Mordecai, I know night terrors can be quite upsetting, but it is important to note that they are merely inside one's head." His sage words were unprecedented, but Mordecai felt like they should have helped.

"I know, Pops. Normally I don't really think about it too much, but this time was...different." Mordecai stabbed at his breakfast with his spoon. "It felt real."

He was about to take a bite of his cereal, raising the spoon to his beak, when something startled him. A dark shape in his peripheral vision passed by the window. He pushed himself away from the table with his hands, his chair rocking backwards precariously as he yelped in surprise. His arms flailed wildly as he regained his balance. With a wide-eyed stare, he turned his head to see if he could catch a glimpse of whatever had shocked him. "What was that!?" He yelled. Pops was taken aback by the sudden turn of events. He whimpered and whirled around to follow Mordecai's line of sight. Mordecai picked up one of his crutches, preparing to use it as a weapon to fight off the would-be assailant. Flashbacks of his early-morning ordeal flickered across his vision. Nerves jangled in his injured foot as he felt the break afresh. "Who's there!?" He shouted, demanding that the creature that had tormented him show itself. The figure appeared silhouetted in the light shining through the small window of the back door. They both sat in suspense as they waited for the intruder to appear, hearing a key turning in the lock. Pops whined worriedly as the handle turned; the door slowly giving way to reveal Muscleman.

"Hey; what are you guys doing up so early?" The topless, sweating green man stepped in to the kitchen and shut the door behind him.

"Oh...It's just you." Mordecai sounded relieved.

"Uh yeah? Of course it's me, bro." Muscleman stepped up to the freezer and opened it, reaching in for a bag of ice. "My fan is broken. I've been melting in my trailer." He leaned forwards and hefted the bag of ice on to his back. He sighed contentedly as he started to cool down. Pops and Mordecai were awkwardly silent for a moment. "So, uh...why were you freaking out bros?"

"Oh, it was nothing... I guess...I thought you were that guy that we're looking out for. You know, that black-haired guy?" Mordecai went back to eating his cereal, if only to occupy his mouth so he would stop talking. For a moment, he was unsure if Muscleman bought it; but the green man shrugged and removed the bag of ice from his back.

"I've not seen him around since yesterday. Maybe he knows we're after him or something." He grinned menacingly and slumped the heavy ice bag back in to the freezer before shutting the door. His grin disappeared as more beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "Man, it's so hot today."

"It is rather warm, I must admit." Pops added as he started to relax once more. "This summer has been most glorious."

"Depends if you're living in a tin can, Pops." Muscleman complained, walking to the sink and turning on the tap. He cupped his hands under the running water and raised a few mouthfuls of it to his lips. His noisy slurping was shameless. "I hate getting up early; but the sun just turns me in to pot roast." He searched for a towel to dry his hands, but quickly resorted to wiping them on his jeans instead. He stepped over to the kitchen table and grabbed a box of cereal, opening it and reaching in his hand. He withdrew a stubby fist, clutching at a few of the sugary pieces before stuffing them in to his face. He grabbed a few more handfuls before he set the still open box down on to the table again, turning to leave the kitchen. "See you later, bros."

After he had left, Mordecai and Pops were left to thinking about what to do. Benson was surely unrelenting on his opinions of Rigby, so getting him his job back would be difficult. After some deliberation, and a few more bowls of sickly-sweet cereal, Mordecai decided to let Pops have a go at convincing Benson to rehire his friend. After he let the eloquent man know of his decision, his round face lit up "Mordecai, I'll try my hardest to get Benson to see the error of his ways; don't you worry about that!" A childish laugh escaped him as he brought his hands up to his chin. "I'm sure I can do it!"

"I'm sure you can, Pops." Mordecai smiled to reassure him, standing up slowly with the aid of his crutches. "I'll just...oh." He was about to offer to clear up the table, but he found both of his hands occupied. "I would offer to clean up, but..."

"No, no! Don't worry, Mordecai. If I can talk to Benson about something as serious as that, I can handle cleaning up our breakfast." Pops stood and quickly started to bustle around the kitchen, putting boxes back in to the cupboards they came from, and stacking their dishes in the sink. "You go and enjoy your day! A Sunday should be cherished! Go!" He giggled again, turning on the hot tap and reaching for some detergent.

"Oh...okay Pops. Thanks! I owe you one." Mordecai hobbled out of the kitchen and towards the living room. Pops, sponge in hand, wondered to himself.

"One what?"

Mordecai had agreed to meet them all at Cheezer's for lunch; an arrangement he had proposed the day before. He had arrived early to the grilled-cheese restaurant, after spending a few hours watching television back at the house. Benson had made his way round to the house to talk to Mordecai about how he had left the day before, despite Benson's demands. It wasn't as serious as Mordecai had thought. Though his boss was still slightly miffed, he was surprisingly calm about it; only raising his voice once during their whole exchange. After a brief discussion about following orders and keeping the house tidy, Benson had let him leave to catch up with Margaret, Eileen and Rigby.

"Hello, welcome to Cheezer's! Can I take your order?" The clerk behind the register had her finger poised over the keypad. A broad smile beamed at Mordecai over the counter.

"Uhm, can I just get a small soda?" Mordecai asked. The girl looked confused. Who comes to Cheezer's just to order a drink?

"Uh, sure. Sure. Is that a lemon-lime, cola, citrus punch..." She was awkwardly interrupted.

"Cola, please."

"Sure; one cola. Ice?" She tapped the keypad a few times, entering in Mordecai's minuscule order to the system. Mordecai shook his head shortly. His mind had already wandered back to his nightmare. He had managed to stave off his thoughts with a few hours of brain-numbing television, but until he had finally brushed off what he had experienced, he felt doomed to partly relive his ordeal.

The voice from behind the counter continued, bringing Mordecai back out of his head. "Sir? Sir? Is there anything else?" Mordecai cleared his mind, landing back in the restaurant. He tried to ignore the mounting line of impatient customers in the queue behind him, but he could feel their eyes boring in to his skull. He felt his skin prickle with embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry... Uh, nothing else, thanks."

"Okay, that'll be ninety-nine cents, please sir." The girl quickly recovered from her bout of confusion and was now as forcedly cheerful as ever. Mordecai quietly handed over a dollar bill and waited for his penny change. "Thank you sir." The girl reached in to the register and retrieved a dirty-looking copper coin. She dropped it in to Mordecai's outstretched palm and turned away to prepare his drink.

She soon returned with the stout paper cup and pressed the cheap plastic lid firmly to the top. "Enjoy your... meal sir." She hesitated, but her training made this phrase automatic. She blushed and quickly turned to the next customer. Mordecai was thankful of the reprieve, but he was now stranded. He looked at the cup that was set on the counter, then peered down at his hands. How was he supposed to carry his drink now?

"Uh, excuse me?" He timidly spoke up, hoping to catch her attention, but the ambient noise in the restaurant drowned him out until it was no more than a faint murmur. He sighed and psyched himself up to attempt to walk on one crutch. Raising his left hand, balancing on his right crutch, he let his other walking stick dangle by its plastic cuff. He reached out for the drink, almost able to clasp his fingers around the paper cup before he started to shake. He was surprised by the amount of effort this was taking already.

"Allow me." A voice came from behind him. He jumped, brought out of his concentration suddenly. He whirled around, quickly flicking his left crutch out to balance before he fell. "Oh, I'm sorry." The voice gave a nervous laugh. Mordecai had to think for a moment before he realised who he was addressed by. Her brown feathers were swept back smoothly over her head; a streak of lighter tan running either side of her face. She wore a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt. It had a band logo on it, but it wasn't one that Mordecai recognised. She smiled, blushing slightly; embarrassed for having caused Mordecai a bit of a fright.

"No it's okay! I mean, I'm fine." Mordecai felt slightly stupid after making a little scene.

"I just saw you were struggling to pick up your drink, and I thought I'd help you out." Her voice and face finally matched up; Mordecai knew who she was. She was Gaila, the waitress from the pizza restaurant.

"Oh, that's...thanks." Mordecai awkwardly shuffled out of her way so she could reach the cup that remained on the counter. She cautiously stepped past him, not wanting to knock him over or bump in to his injured foot. As she retrieved the drink, she turned back to him.

"So, don't I know you from somewhere?" She asked. The question seemed to already have an answer in her head. It appeared as though she was just making sure.

"I'm Mordecai. I was at PizzaFace yesterday." He was slightly nervous; not quite remembering her name enough to repeat it aloud.

"Oh, I knew I'd seen you somewhere before." Gaila seemed quite a bit more shy than she was at the restaurant. "You were with the two other boys, weren't you? The German guy and the...other one." She tried not to call the blue jay's friend rude.

"Yeah, that's right! Am I really that recognisable?" Mordecai asked. The sparrow glanced down at the silver sticks in his hands, looking back up apologetically. She could guess that it wasn't something he wanted attention for. "Oh..." Mordecai uttered as he realised. "...yeah, the foot."

"Sorry." Gaila quietly apologised, avoiding eye contact for a while. She quickly jumped from the subject, turning it back to the matter at hand. "So, where are you sitting?" She asked, looking around at all the full tables in the busy establishment.

"I wasn't sat anywhere." He had only just arrived at the restaurant before he ordered his drink, and had planned on sitting outside to await his friends.

"Oh, I see. Well, It doesn't look like you were going to be sat in here, anyway. It's really busy today, huh!" She laughed quite enthusiastically. Mordecai didn't see what was so funny, but he laughed along too. Maybe she was nervous.

"Weren't you sat in here?" He asked, wondering where she had spotted him from.

"Yeah I was sat just-" She pointed to a table with her free hand, only to see that seat-fillers had taken over. "- never mind."

"Oh man, they took your place." He sounded sympathetic, but he knew there would be very little they could do about it.

"It's not a problem. I finished eating, anyway." She chuckled again, passing it off as no big deal, but it seemed more as though she wanted to avoid a confrontation.

"Yeah? Well, okay; if you say so." Mordecai wanted to get out in to the fresh air, slowly starting to roast in the close heat inside the restaurant. "Let's go outside, I need to cool down."

"Lead the way." Gaila chirped, her shyness starting to fall away slightly.

They quickly reached the outside seating area. During the summer months, the restaurant was always busy; and as the inside could quickly fill up, the management had opted to set out several tables for customers to sit at outside. It was almost as busy outside as it was in, but the two birds were in luck. They noticed a sour-faced, obese mother leading her crying, snivelling children away in to the parking lot. The mess they had left on the table was substantial, but the space would soon fill up regardless. Gaila, having worked in restaurants before, was quick to capture it. She dashed off ahead of the hobbling blue-jay and placed his cup down on to the wooden surface, seating herself on the far side of the table. Mordecai soon joined her, awkwardly sitting facing away from the table as he leaned his crutches against it. He shuffled around slowly, careful not to bump his foot against the table legs, until he was facing Gaila. "I hope you don't mind if I sit here for a while. I finished my meal quicker than I thought I would, and I've got time to kill." She seemed more than happy to keep Mordecai company, at least until his friends turned up.

"No, not at all." He shrugged casually, finding it mildly awkward, but not uncomfortable. He had already let one stranger in to his life this week; why not another?

"So, who are you meeting? Is the German guy coming along?" She leaned on her elbows, resting her chin against her palms.

"Oh, no; he's not coming. I hope." Before Mordecai could continue, Gaila carried on.

"Oh, really?" She seemed slightly disappointed. "Why do you hope he won't?" Mordecai stammered, not wanting to seem callous or two-faced.

"Oh, just...he's fairly... new I guess. I only met him yesterday. I just wanted to hang out with Rigby and a few others." The name seemed familiar to the sparrow.

"Rigby's the little guy, huh?" She seemed to accept the reasoning that Mordecai put forth.

"Yeah... The little guy." He laughed, picking up his drink and taking a sip.

"So, you only met that European guy yesterday?" She seemed awfully interested in Anders. She wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it.

"Uh, yeah. He's okay; bit weird, but he's alright." Mordecai awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with a free hand. "He's hard work though. Kind of a prankster."

"A prankster, huh? He seems like fun, you know." Gaila tipped her head to the side and sighed dreamily.

"Uh...yeah... fun." Mordecai looked away for a moment, not wanting to be overly critical of the badger; even though he had proven more than once that he had a foul temper.

"Mordecai!" The blue jay turned quickly as he heard the familiar voice. That one voice that sent his heart soaring in to his throat. He very quickly spotted her; Margaret.

"Hey!" He called to her, smiling. Gaila waved minutely, feeling shy again all of a sudden. Rigby, Margaret and Eileen were walking alongside each other, still fairly visible in the throng of people on the pavement. Mordecai felt relieved to see them. They had taken a fair bit longer than he had anticipated to arrive, but they were finally at Cheezer's. Mordecai's smile quickly turned to a look of shock as the group of three became a group of four as a previously unseen acquaintance appeared from behind Margaret. The red-streaked back hair and silver jacket were instantly recognisable.

"Oh no." Mordecai uttered. How was he here? How did Anders find out they would be at Cheezer's? Had he come to get even with Mordecai for going through his box of photographs? He tensed up all over as he prepared to defend himself. Gaila, unseen by Mordecai, was beaming ecstatically as she spotted the badger.

As they approached their table, Rigby made his way to the front. He prepared himself for a grilling, as he was sure that Mordecai would question him regarding the tag-along. "Hey dude." Rigby smiled and greeted his friend, turning his attention away from Anders for as long as he could.

"Hey, you guys." Mordecai tried to remain neutral, trying to ignore the fact that someone potentially dangerous was looming over him. Even worse, Eileen and Margaret were present. He really didn't fancy having Anders know what they looked like, wanting to keep them out of harm's way.

"How are you doing?" Anders asked, quite politely. He had probably registered that 'the hot chick' from the restaurant was there and wanted to keep up appearances.

"I'm okay... yeah." Mordecai's reply was pretty much shrugged off, not that it was any more than just a formality.

"And how about you?" He slunk past Rigby and smoothly placed himself in the seat next to the blue jay. He smiled at Gaila, who immediately blushed and looked around as nonchalantly as she could manage. "How are you today?"

"Good." She squeaked, quickly clearing her throat to regain her voice. "I'm good... thanks. Uh, you?"

"I'm better, now that I get to speak to you again." His smirk would have been sickening, if Gaila hadn't been so flattered. Margaret and Rigby grimaced. Mordecai managed to stomach it; while Eileen nervously started to peer around.

"I should... I should go inside and get our food." Margaret said quickly, wanting to get away from Anders for just a moment. It seemed apparent that, however long he had been with them, it was already starting to get too much. She turned towards the building and went inside.

"Me too." Eileen tagged on, quickly following her. Rigby was left standing.

"So, Anders is here." Mordecai stated. He seemed annoyed, but he let it simmer under the surface. Luckily, the badger was far too preoccupied with wooing the young woman sat across the table from him to pay any attention to Mordecai and Rigby's exchange.

"I'm sorry, man. He just spotted us walking here. It was so weird; it's like he knew we were coming."

"Uh huh. So you didn't like, invite him along, again?" Mordecai folded his arms, scrutinising the raccoon.

"No dude, why would I do that?" He brought his voice down to almost a whisper, leaning in closer. He was nervous about talking of Anders when they were so close by. "After last night? Do you think I'm crazy?" Mordecai quietly considered it. Rigby was partly crazy, but he wasn't crazy enough to do something that stupid.

"I guess not, man. Still; how did he know?" The jay quickly whipped his head around to peer over his shoulder as Gaila giggled girlishly. Anders was holding her hand, stroking her fingers sweetly. Mordecai rolled his eyes and turned back to Rigby. "I mean, what were the chances of him just running in to you on the street?"

"Well, he did. And now he's here." Rigby took Mordecai's questioning as though it were an accusation. "It's not my fault." He folded his arms; mirroring his friend.

"I'm not saying that." The jay scowled.

"Yes you are." His argumentative tone was already creeping in to their exchange.

"Rigby, just... let's get through this, okay?" Mordecai wasn't in the mood for raising his voice, so he let it slide. The raccoon pouted.

"Hmf, fine." He pulled himself up in between Mordecai and Anders, leaving the opposite bench free for Margaret and Eileen when they would return.

Anders was still holding Gaila's hand when the two young women finally returned. They had their food in small, grease-stained bags bearing the Cheezer's logo. Eileen looked up at Margaret and grimaced; thankfully unnoticed by the badger as he continued to flatter the sparrow. Margaret looked back at her and sighed, slightly nodding in agreement. They were all for meeting new people, but they both seemed to know that something was amiss with Anders. They sat to Gaila's left, opposite Mordecai and Rigby. They handed out the food silently, making sure everyone had a fair share; before eating silently as Anders continued to charm the new girl.

"You know, I thought I had seen you before, yesterday. I thought I had seen you in my dreams; and now you are a dream come true." Mordecai knew that he would never get away with lines so cheesy. He guessed that the only reason Gaila fell for it was that Anders' accent covered up the sleaziness of it all. Margaret raised her eyebrows as she chewed on a mouthful of Grilled Cheese Deluxe, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"Oh, you. You are so sweet and polite!" Gaila was smiling so wide that her cheeks were dimpled. "And you look so cool."

"You need to get to know him a bit more first." Rigby cut in. Mordecai quickly nudged him with an elbow. As gullible as Gaila was, he didn't want to aggravate Anders by letting Rigby ruin his chances. At the same time; Gaila had been very kind to him, and he would have hated to see her get her heart broken by someone like that. He knew it was coming, and it was only a matter of time.

It was one of the most awkward positions he could imagine.

Anders shot a glance across Mordecai's shoulder. Rigby smiled back apologetically. Gaila didn't seem to notice his interruption, as she was too busy admiring Anders' unkempt appearance. As far as they could tell, Gaila's music tastes seemed to fit quite well with Anders' appearance. The band logo on her dark T-shirt was red, white and black with angular lettering and some fairly striking imagery. Mordecai guessed it was heavy metal of some sort or other.

"You really are such a smooth talker, Mr...uh...Sorry I don't even know your name." She sheepishly peered away as she realised she hadn't thought to ask before.

"It's Anders, darling." His toothy grin made Eileen nervously keep her head down.

"Anders! What a beautiful name." Gaila smiled and started to stroke his fingers in return.

"How is he..." Rigby uttered; again receiving an elbow to the chest. Mordecai also hadn't the foggiest idea how he was managing to win the sparrow over so quickly. The four friends could see how quickly it was going to go downhill. It was like watching a train-wreck in slow motion.

"Listen, Gaila..." Anders had remembered her name from the day before. "... I have to go and sort a few things out, but I would love to get to know you better." He reached in to his jacket and pulled out a tiny scrap of paper and a stubby pencil. He scribbled some digits down. "I'll tell you what: I'll give you my phone number, and you give me a call any time you like. We'll organise a little get-together and learn some more about each other, okay?" Phone numbers? Already? He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, Mordecai was secretly jealous of Anders' smooth approach. He wondered how he didn't freeze up and stammer when talking to women.

"Sure, I'd love to!" Gaila blushed as she snatched the paper eagerly away from his hands. "It was nice meeting you again, Anders."

"A pleasure." Anders slowly stood and waved daintily, before he turned and walked back down the road. Gaila watched until he passed out of sight.

It was then that she realised that four pairs of eyes were fixed on her. She silently turned to face them, prompting them all to pretend that they hadn't been staring for the entire time. Margaret was first to try and change the subject. She had only just met the girl, and she was sure that she was nice enough. She didn't want to judge on first impressions, so she set about trying to engage with her. She smiled politely, putting on her most friendly voice.

"So, Gaila, was it? Tell us some more about yourself."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_Finally, after quite a long wait (I'm sorry for that, by the way), chapter 10 is finished. This is the longest chapter of Soda to date, clocking in at about 6,800 words. I hadn't intended it to go on so long, but I just felt that after the nightmare scene, I needed to move the story on a bit quicker. I'm hoping to start picking up the pace in the next few chapters, now that the foundation has been laid down._

Life has been fairly nutty recently, but I finally sat down and finished the chapter for you guys to read. I made a couple of doodles, but not as many as I would have liked. I might come back to some things in the story later and draw them too. For now, you can see the two scribbles I made (Gaila meeting Mordecai, and a scene from Mordecai's nightmare) on my Tumblr.

Remember to go follow me there for updates and such! I occasionally livestream drawing and such (and I take requests sometimes), so you'll get to know when I'll be doing those!

Til next time.

-Sy


	11. Chapter 11: Raising The Bar

Chapter 11: Raising The Bar

"And don't forget the rest of the papers..."  
"...In the box under the desk; okay Benson." Mordecai sighed, sat on an office chair as his boss shovelled more work on to him. Benson seemed slightly rattled as the jay finished his sentence for him, but he let it slide.  
"I'll be back in a few hours to check how you're doing." He calmly left the room, confident in the knowledge that Mordecai was lacking the distraction of his former co-worker.

It was a wet Wednesday afternoon; the hot and humid summer bringing with it day after day of thunderstorms and rain. It summed up Mordecai's mood greatly. Pops had failed to bring Benson round, short of threatening him with unemployment. It was beyond the man's nature to be so forceful, but Mordecai was happy that he had at least tried his best. It had only been three days since the visit to Cheezer's, but he was already finding it hard to be alone at the park. He thought it was only Rigby who had gotten it in the neck, but now it felt as though Benson was letting Rigby's absence serve as a punishment in its own right.

His foot still ached every day, and recurring nightmares (albeit, not as bad as the first), were continuing to taunt him, even after waking. On top of all of that; only getting to see Rigby for such a short time every day was starting to take its toll.

The raccoon had continued to live at Margaret's place; which she didn't seem to mind. He was apparently quite helpful around her apartment; something that Mordecai hadn't expected of him. Nonetheless, he was glad that he wasn't too much of a burden on her. Eileen had made a point to visit Margaret more often, too; on account of her crush being within a convenient distance of where she lived.

The girl they had met at the pizza restaurant, Gaila, had also hit it off quite well with the girls from the coffee shop; visiting Margaret's place on the Monday to chat over a light dinner and some trashy TV shows. As it turned out, Margaret and Gaila had more in common than they had initially thought: Gaila had also studied at art school; and was also working as a waitress to help pay off her education.

It reminded Mordecai of the return of another student: Thomas had returned from a holiday with his mother in Hawaii on the very same Monday of that week. He had been put back to work with Muscleman and High Five Ghost, and Mordecai had not yet had the chance to welcome him back.

He fished a stack of papers out of the first box and started to organise them in to a set of different folders. Mordecai, at first, wondered why the papers weren't organised to begin with; but he was quickly reminded of a time when he and Rigby had managed to knock all of the filing cabinets over during one of their childish games. Benson had scraped all of the papers up in to boxes and meant to get the two of them to organise them again, before the trampoline incident took centre-stage. He slowly plodded on with the laborious job, but did not complain.

Soon, it was time for a mid-morning break. Benson returned, bearing a glass of cloudy lemonade. "Here." He passed the glass to Mordecai, who graciously accepted it with thanks. He hadn't expected such kindness from him, considering the circumstances. Then again, he did need reminding once in a while that Benson wasn't heartless. As Mordecai took a sip to cool off, Benson stepped over to the stack of folders and surveyed them. "Hmm, not bad; not bad at all." A smile appeared on his face; a rare sight. He turned to Mordecai, who continued to silently enjoy his drink. "You see? You can work perfectly fine on your own. I knew it was Rigby's fault all along." Mordecai sighed and looked away at the thought. He wanted to argue that Benson was wrong; he wanted to express his misery, but he knew that he would not listen. He let the words wash over him like bitter-cold sea water.  
"I guess so." He forced a smile, looking around at the monumental amount of papers that still remained in the office. He concluded that he would most probably be there until he died of old age.  
"You guess so? Mordecai, you've done really well for yourself." Benson put his hands on his hips, still genuinely pleased with his effort. "You've proved to me that you're not the slacker that I made you out to be." He kept his beak shut as his Boss continued to praise him. Somehow, his kind words stung more than any criticism he had levelled at him before. Benson's smile faded slowly as he realised what was going on in his employee's head. "Look..." He began, pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of Mordecai. "...I get that you miss Rigby. I know you have a lot of fun hanging out together and stuff like that." He looked up as his boss got on a level with him. "I admit, sometimes I even think that I should lighten up a bit and find some way of having fun at work too. I just think that there should be some sort of balance, you know?" Benson's tone of voice was somewhat sympathetic; almost as though he was treading lightly. It wasn't like Benson to tread on eggshells around anyone; let alone the two idle slackers that caused him to lose his rag one time too many. "It's just that after so much time trying to get you guys to do your work; day after day, something had to give." Mordecai's brow sunk as a frown formed. He held back his tongue as Benson continued, hoping that his expression would do the talking. "I think you'll do great here now. If you keep this sort of work up; especially after that cast comes off; I might even consider bumping your pay up a few bucks."

After a brief moment to let the notion of a pay-rise sink in, Benson stood up. He stepped his way towards the doorway again, turning back to register Mordecai's expression. It was still rather muddled; the prospect of more money conflicting with getting his friend back in to the same house. Benson knew that he was walking a fine line between encouragement and insult. He thought he would tip the scales. "Hey; I'm going to get some ice-cream from the snack bar. You want to sit outside for a bit?" The rain had stopped an hour ago as a break formed in the clouds. The sun was warming the rain-soaked park, making it feel humid and sticky. He knew he could probably do with the fresh air. Mordecai took a final sip of his lemonade and placed the glass down on to the desk. Benson slowly retrieved it as the blue jay made an effort to stand. He had all but perfected rising up on his crutches; but he was looking forward to the time when he wouldn't need them any more.

"Okay; I need to get out of this room for a while. I'm starting to get sick of paper already." He released some of the bitterness, but let it stop there. He had little intention of rocking the boat more than the previous weekend's events had already.

They both made their way towards the snack bar, enjoying a pleasantly cool breeze that contrasted with the hot rays of sunshine that penetrated the clouds. The park was still fairly busy, considering that it was late morning on a work-day; with people milling around as per usual. They were most probably taking advantage of the weather's respite. Mordecai was trying to think of something to say in order to break the silence with Benson. It was fairly obvious to him that he was just trying to be nice; but the certainty with which Benson stuck to his decision to fire Rigby led Mordecai to believe that he regretted nothing.

Thomas and Muscleman were leaning against the snack bar nonchalantly and chattering about something that Mordecai could not make out. The smile on Thomas' face probably meant that he was recounting a tale from his vacation. "Hey guys." Mordecai tried to remain cheerful as he let his loneliness sink to the back of his mind for a moment.  
"Sup grandma." Muscleman pointed a stubby finger and grinned, before breaking in to an obnoxious laugh. The jay simply frowned and rolled his eyes. It was typical Mitch behaviour.

"Hey Mordecai! Hi Benson." Thomas waved. "How are you?"  
"I'm great, thanks." Benson answered quickly, leaning against the customers' side of the bar.

"Yeah, I'm okay... I guess." Mordecai wondered if letting out his frustration in small quantities would eventually win his boss over.  
"You guess?" Thomas picked up on it quickly.  
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it!" Mordecai cheerfully grinned and shrugged it off. "You know; just talking without thinking, or something." The goat thought about replying for a moment, but slowly let go of the idea.  
"Two cones please," Benson pointed at the expensive-looking Belgian waffle-cones perched on their stand on the counter, "vanilla for me, with chocolate sauce." Thomas quickly set to work preparing the ice-cream.

"I'll have... uh...chocolate, please." Mordecai added on to the order.  
"With vanilla sauce?" Thomas looked up expectantly, smiling a stupid smile. As far as the other three were aware, there was no vanilla sauce to be had. "Vanilla? Chocolate...?" Thomas shifted his eyes nervously as he started to feel the heat from watching a joke die in the water.  
"I don't think that's a thing, bro." Muscleman stated, raising an eyebrow.  
"It was a joke, but never mind." The goat awkwardly bowed his head, avoiding eye contact with his colleagues as he finished preparing their cones. The three of them shrugged and glanced at each other trying to make sense of Thomas' poorly planned humour. For a moment, all they could hear was mumbling from a few of the tables nearby.  
"So... uh, how's the snack bar treating you three?" Benson asked.  
"Three?" Thomas looked over at Muscleman and then back to Benson. "I thought..."  
"I've been here this whole time!" Came a high-pitched, wavering voice. Whoever it was sounded angry. Thomas whipped about to face the source. High Five Ghost was floating just a few feet away from his face; making him jump.  
"Yeah bro! Me and Fives work together all the time. You seriously didn't know he was in here?" Muscleman seemed to be slightly upset; perhaps being offended for his friend. Unable to pull the right words out of the air, Thomas stammered for a moment before turning back to finish the ice-cream cones for Mordecai and Benson. "Thomas! We're speaking to you!"  
"Yeah! Show some respect!" Fives complained. Being a ghost, he knew that he was translucent; but he was sure that even he wasn't that easy to miss.  
"I'm sorry." Thomas replied, not looking up. Mordecai could see that this was going to escalate if they weren't careful.  
"You're not sorry. You can take your apology and shove it!" Muscleman shouted, pushing the intern roughly by the shoulder.  
"Hey!" Benson yelled, making them all stop and look in his direction. "I'm sure it was just a little oversight."  
"Y-yeah! Just an oversight." Thomas butted in to affirm Benson's decision.  
"Quiet."  
"Sorry."  
"It was just an oversight, and I'm sure he meant it. Muscleman; accept his apology, then apologise for pushing him." Benson folded his arms and scowled sternly.  
"But..."  
"No buts! Say sorry or you're fired!" The explosive temper seemed to come out of nowhere. Muscleman tried to resist the urge to shield his face as his boss screamed at him.  
"...Alright. Thomas," he turned to face the goat once more, awkwardly shifting his eyes, "I'm sorry if I hurt you or something." It sounded sincere... enough.  
"Uh, it's okay man. I'm sorry I forgot High Five Ghost. I didn't mean to, I swear." Thomas turned to Fives and held up a hand tentatively. "Hey, man. I'm sorry." The tiny spectre indignantly looked away, but still managed to deliver a stinging high-five that reverberated around the kitchen. He smirked as the goat winced.

Mordecai and Benson had been enjoying their ice-cream for a few moments in relative silence before Thomas piped up again. "So, how's Rigby doing? I haven't seen him around since I got back." Mordecai raised an eyebrow, quickly glaring at Benson, who didn't notice. He looked back to the goat and replied.  
"You mean, nobody told you?" Thomas shook his head; his hair flopping around somewhat. "Benson fired him on Friday." The goat looked shocked for a moment.  
"Oh man! What for?"  
"It doesn't m-" Benson tried to interrupt.  
"Because he caused the accident that broke my foot." Mordecai seemed confused as to why Thomas didn't know already. He was not at all surprised by his broken foot, but he was about the cause of it.  
"Yeah Mitch told me about your foot when I got back, but nobody-"  
"Hey, Mordecai we should be getting back to the house now." Benson checked his wrist for a watch that wasn't there before quickly turning around and heading away from the snack bar. He seemed eager to avoid a confrontation.

"And nobody told you about Rigby getting fired?" Mordecai tipped his head as his frustration mounted.  
"What? No, I just figured he was sick or something." Thomas shrugged. "That really sucks though, man. Benson really fired him for that?" Mordecai nodded. "Yikes."  
"Uh huh. And now you know." Thomas thought for a moment, not having seen the imposing yeti around the park either. He quickly put two and two together.  
"Did uh... did Skips get fired too?"

"He quit. I guess he didn't agree with Benson or something." He turned around on his crutches; the rubber tips grinding in to the gravel slightly. "Well, I'll see you guys later; I got more work to do." He caught a glimpse of the intern as he started to make his way back up the path towards the house. He looked slightly uneasy about the whole thing; nervously looking over to Muscleman to get his opinion on the whole matter. The green man shrugged in response. As he walked, Mordecai wondered whether two more scrutinising opinions would tip Benson's judgement in Rigby's favour.

Soon, Mordecai was back at the house, ready to start his next load of work. Benson stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips. His mood was still mostly pleasant, despite Mordecai opening up the Rigby case with his co-workers. "Okay, Mordecai. I'm sure you can handle the rest of this. If you keep it up, you'll probably have it all done by the end of today." Mordecai let himself relax in to the chair, letting his crutches simply fall to the floor as he sighed.  
"Okay Benson." He replied with a subtle attitude, hoping that he could let his discontent shine through. He felt determined to get Rigby back to the park, despite Benson's apparent kindness over his morning break. The automaton frowned slightly, but did not take the bait.  
"So, I'll be back in a few hours. You've got a lunch break then. I'll be working down in the garage if you need me." He turned around and left, leaving the door open to the hallway.

Mordecai continued with his menial task, sorting the paper in to files and boxes. He had picked up quite a pace, not wanting it to take any more time than it had to. He figured that, even without Rigby around, he could still at least try to enjoy himself. He held the plan of attempting to break his own record on Dig Champs in his head; a carrot on a stick. Everything was going smoothly, despite his lack of enthusiasm for the job itself. He was convinced he would finish it just an hour or so after his lunch break, and with no more jobs left for him to do, an early finish was all but guaranteed.

He felt the gears grind to a chilling halt as a familiar voice stirred him from deep concentration. "Hey, Mordecai!" The European accent was unmistakeable. Mordecai slowly turned in his chair, stopping it as he faced the door. Anders was leaning casually against the door frame. "Not seen you in a little while."  
"What are you doing here?" Mordecai's question was cold, complete with a stern glare. "You're not supposed to be in the house!" The badger looked slightly surprised by Mordecai's icy response.

"Woah, calm down! What's the matter with you? I only stopped by to say 'hi'." He gestured openly, trying to appeal to his better nature. Mordecai didn't reply for a moment; noticing something odd about him. The more he looked, the more he noticed. First of all, and most obvious: Anders had opted to wear his red-tinted flying goggles on top of his head, rather than around his neck, as usual. The goggles drew his attention to a small patch of hair missing from one side of his long fringe. It looked roughly cut, or shaved; he was not sure.  
"Dude, you really aren't supposed to be in here right now." He let urgency creep in to his voice, trying to roll back his coldness only a little. He guessed that trying to be slightly friendly would convince the intruder to go along with what he was saying. "If Benson finds you in here, he'll get pissed. He might even call the cops!"  
"Oh, the cops! I love those guys. Get them to bring hummus and chips." His sarcasm was a stark change from just a moment before; but Mordecai had come to expect such an attitude.  
"I'm being serious. Benson knows you. Well..." He paused, correcting himself, "...he knows about you. If he finds you here, he is going to go nuts. You have to go." Mordecai folded his arms, trying to bring back some seriousness. Anders huffed and rolled his eyes.  
"Ugh. lighten up, man! I figured without Rigby here, that you could do with some company." He stepped in to the room and pulled up another office chair, before rolling over to Mordecai. He felt a slight chill up his spine as the toothy mammal got closer. He found the badger's intentions so hard to gauge that he was sure that being alone with him was bound to cause trouble. "So what are you doing? Paperwork?"  
"Dude, you gotta leave." Mordecai was tense all over; ready to react at a moment's notice. He could feel his heart beating faster. Anders frowned, looking disappointed.  
"Mordecai, what's the matter? Don't you like me? I thought we were friends." He folded his arms. It was so simple; a single phrase that completely crippled Mordecai's ability to form a coherent sentence.  
"I... uh... yeah, but...dude..." He stammered. He didn't want to get on to Anders' bad side; but he knew that he was dangerously close to tumbling in to it. Anders' frown deepened, becoming an accusing stare. "What I mean is... if you... if Benson finds you, I could lose my job."  
"Nah." The German's expression suddenly changed to a polite smile. "Don't be silly, man. I let myself in; it's not your fault!" He laughed, before suddenly dropping back in to his stern glare. "So are we friends or not?" Mordecai quickly reacted, caught off guard by the sudden switch.  
"Yeah, yeah we are!" He immediately regretted it. He knew that the closer he got to Anders; the more it would come back to bite him when his distaste finally came to the surface.  
"Well, that's okay then. I like to think we're friends, you know. You're pretty cool." He smiled and picked up a few of the papers. "Want some help?"  
"No, it's fine...You don't have-"  
"Don't be silly, Mordecai! Of course you want some help. The sooner we finish up here, the sooner we can go for a drink. I invited Rigby out too, you know." Mordecai sat with his beak open for a moment. He was planning to visit Rigby that evening; hoping for some bro-time.  
"Did...did he say yes?"  
"I said I was buying the drinks; which I am!" Anders cheerfully sifted through the papers on his lap without looking up. Mordecai remained with his mouth gaping slightly. "So yeah, that's a yes."  
"What?! But, we were going to hang tonight! We were going to see a movie!" He tried to make it seem as though he had concrete plans.  
"Oh yeah, what movie?" Anders was far from stupid; picking a hole in that ship before it sailed. Mordecai tried to reply, but barely managed a throaty croak as he began to vocalise. "So, you coming along to the bar then?" He thought for a moment. He really wanted to catch up with his friend; preferably without Anders tagging along. That said, it didn't look like he had a choice in the matter. He sighed and looked away for a second.  
"Okay, fine. We'll go to the bar."  
"Excellent!" Anders began stuffing papers in to their corresponding folders. He seemed rather meticulous about it; straightening out the papers by tapping the short stacks against the nearby desk before tucking them away. Mordecai thought for a while about how helpful Anders was being. He had offered to buy all of their drinks that evening, and he was quite efficient at filing. Benson would not be venturing inside for at least a few hours longer. Maybe some help would be best? He hummed to himself before he spoke.  
"Thanks for the help, by the way." He remained on his guard, not entirely sure how the amount he already knew about Anders weighed up against the potential mountain of other facets. Anders smiled back, revealing his sharp-looking teeth in acknowledgement. Mordecai couldn't quite place it, but somehow the sight brought on a spate of deja vu.

Anders had quite stealthily left the house just minutes before Benson reappeared to put Mordecai on his lunch break. His calm demeanour showed that Anders was almost certainly successfully on his way out of the park; with nobody any the wiser. As Mordecai filtered through the last of the papers and placed them in their respective folders, he thought back to the strange sensation Anders' menacing grin had conjured. Something was oddly familiar about it; something about the angle? His proximity? He was not sure. He felt that it was certainly more intense than any time before, though. He hadn't known anyone with teeth quite as pointed.  
"Alright, lunchtime!" Benson called as he appeared from the hallway. He stopped in his tracks as he watched the last of the papers slip in to the binder in Mordecai's hands. His surprise started his next sentence with a throaty chuckle. "Wow! I'm impressed! Mordecai; you cleared the whole thing before lunch! How did you manage it?" Mordecai stammered, quickly having to think up an excuse to cover for Anders.  
"Uh, I just...came up with a system?" He shrugged. "It just kinda went from there." The explanation didn't really wash with his boss, but as it turned out; he didn't need one.

"Well, whatever you did, it worked." He picked up one of the closest folders and quickly flipped through it to check Mordecai's consistency. "Alphabetical, neat, tidy... and it's all here!" Mordecai nervously laughed.  
"Haha, yeah..." He rubbed the back of his head and avoided eye contact.  
"Well, I guess I'll just sort these back in to their drawers, and you can go for lunch. You've got an hour til-"  
"Wait, Benson. You said this is all I had to do today!" Mordecai interrupted, anticipating another job about to be dumped on him.  
"But you're still on the clock." He was right; he was being paid to work after all.  
"But there's nothing left to do, right?" He raised his eyebrows pleadingly.  
"Hmm. Well, there's one last thing I need doing, but you're still housebound cause of your foot." Mordecai watched hopefully as Benson thought it through. "Well, I don't see why not. I'm genuinely impressed by your effort today, Mordecai. You deserve the rest of the afternoon off, I suppose." Mordecai punched at the air with a grin on his face. "I'll have to find some more stuff for you to do tomorrow." Benson put a hole in Mordecai's rising elation just as soon as it had appeared.  
"Aw man..." He noticed Benson frown as he complained. Not wanting to reverse his good fortune, he quickly corrected himself. "...uh what am I gonna do with all this extra time? Ha ha... uh." Benson's frown disappeared slowly.  
"I don't know; watch TV or something?" He turned and left Mordecai in the office on his own. "See you later I guess."

Rigby scampered over on all-fours to meet his friend. "Dude! I thought you were at work!" He stood up and raised an eyebrow as he peered up at him. Mordecai was stood outside of Drop; a trendy bar that claimed to be unique for its loud music and strong alcohol. He looked up at the signs that surrounded the entrance and groaned slightly.

"This is the place?" He nodded his head towards the door.  
"Yeah, man! Drop is so cool!" Rigby beamed, seeming incredibly excited.  
"But... it's just a bar, dude. Look." He motioned down the street behind Rigby. Either side of it was lined with similar looking buildings; each one festooned with eye-catching designs and colour-schemes that covered their plain construction.  
"But Drop is cooler!" Rigby slung an arm forwards from behind his shoulder, urging Mordecai to follow him. "C'mon!" He walked in through the door, not stopping to make sure Mordecai was following.  
"Can't we just go somewhere quieter? We've not had bro-time in like two days." He pictured them both sat in the coffee shop, as they always did. Rigby reappeared from the dingy-looking doorway and scowled.  
"Oh, I'm sorry grandpa. I forgot this place was for hip young whipper-snappers like me." He mocked his crutches by stooping over forward and pretending to lean on a walking stick. His knocking knees sealed the deal.  
"Ugh, fine." Mordecai clacked his way across the concrete towards the entrance, feeling slightly annoyed that Rigby had won him over so easily.

The inside had a strange smell about it; disinfectants and other strong cleaning products, mingling with the stale smell of last night's vomit and sadness. There was an empty dance-floor at the far end of the building, complete with vacant DJ booth and a needlessly huge sound system that dominated both of the far corners. Various stage-lights and smoke machines hung from a rig on the ceiling. Despite all of that, the only lights on at that moment were the house lights, supplemented by the faint glow from the TV. Mordecai and Rigby approached the bar, with Rigby leading a one-man charge. The barman seemed perplexed by their arrival, but he was certainly happy to see some customers so early on. "You fellas are by a bit early, huh. Well, what can I get you?" Mordecai politely asked for a soda with ice, before letting his concentration wander. He peered around the room, trying to grasp why the bar was open during a weekday afternoon. There were a few patrons dotted around at tables by the wall, and judging by their grubby appearance Mordecai guessed that they were the regulars. As he swept his vision back towards the bar, he spotted a silhouette sauntering through the door. Their messy hair was an immediate give-away. As Anders approached, he saluted.  
"Hey guys! Sorry I'm a bit late." Mordecai barely acknowledged him as he stopped a few feet away. He shrugged off his apparent lateness. Their attention was quickly drawn when Rigby started to yell.  
"I am totally twenty-three! That's old enough, right?" He sounded angry, but it carried on a whining tone of voice.  
"I'm sorry sir, but I can't serve you."  
"Aw c'mon man! I left my license in my other pants." Mordecai peered over his shoulder to see Rigby, now standing on a bar-stool to gain the necessary height to see eye to eye with the barman.  
"No identification, no booze. Sorry kid." The barman turned away to start wiping down the work surface behind him with a damp rag.  
"Kid?!" Rigby shouted. "I'm an adult!" He leaned over the bar, snarling fiercely. Mordecai reacted quickly, lifting a crutch across the raccoon's chest to hold him back. He tried to ignore Anders, who was laughing by his shoulder. He hoped that the ridicule wouldn't exacerbate the situation.  
"Dude, calm down. We could go get a beer somewhere else?" Mordecai tried to reason with him, but as it happened, there was no need. The barman whirled around suddenly; realising that the three potential customers were together.  
"Oh, no no! It's okay!" He quickly stammered. He leaned over to them, dropping his voice down to a whisper. "And if anyone asks, I didn't sell it to you." He immediately stood back up and jovially continued; as though he was a totally different person. "So what can I get you three gentlemen?" Rigby raised an eyebrow and peered across at his friend. Mordecai shrugged.  
"Uhm... a beer?" Rigby repeated his order, feeling slightly confused.  
"Yeah three beers!" Anders called out. His sudden exclamation made Mordecai jump.  
"No, two beers. I'll have a soda." The jay corrected the order. Rigby and Anders both turned to him with confused looks on their faces.  
"Aw man, you're such a buzz-kill!" Anders complained. He patted the taller man on the back and laughed obnoxiously. "Nah; better make that three beers!"  
"Yeah dude! Lighten up!" Rigby elbowed him in the ribs from his elevated position. "One won't hurt ya!" Mordecai frowned.  
"No! I don't want a stupid beer!" His sudden shout was unexpected by all present. Rigby leaned back to avoid him in case he lashed out. Anders furrowed his brow.  
"But, I thought you liked beer?" He tipped his head to the side minutely, in a questioning manner.  
"What are you talking about?" Mordecai turned and scowled at him. "Last time you ordered for all of us, I had to drag Rigby home!" He had been growing increasingly impatient with Anders over the few days they had known each other. The pressure of it all was starting to show. "Do you have any idea how long that took me?" Anders avoided his fiery glare and grumbled. Rigby quickly tugged at Mordecai's elbow, noticing the badger's reaction.  
"Uh, dude." He whispered, sounding rather desperate to stop Mordecai from angering the unpredictable mammal.  
"So no! I'm not going to have a beer because you say so! I'm going to have a soda, and I'm going to go home sober!" Mordecai turned back towards the bar. The bartender looked rather confused. He was starting to regret enticing the three of them to stay. Rigby stared worriedly over Mordecai's shoulder, catching a glimpse of Anders as he shrugged off the encounter.  
"Okay, suit yourself!" He chuckled. "Two beers and a soda, please." The barman rolled his eyes and turned to the fridge; retrieving three bottles before placing them all on to the worn-looking bar top. He removed the bottle-caps one by one. All the while, Rigby wondered why Anders had just accepted being yelled at without retorting once.

Several drinks later, with Rigby once again tipsy to the point of swaying, and Anders telling highly inappropriate jokes; Mordecai checked his cellphone for the time. It was already approaching five in the evening. He had tried to put their little spat behind him; mellowing out so as not to put much of a downer on their afternoon. He truly hated being the square, but he knew when he had to stop lines from being crossed. "...and then! And then the guy said, 'Marauder? I barely even know 'er!'" Anders' yelled punch-line gave way to raucous laughter; which he was joined in by Rigby. They both almost rolled off of their seats as they both creased up. Mordecai felt like escaping the general atmosphere of the bar for just a moment. Luckily, several bottles of soda were plenty reason to vacate. He laughed weakly at the joke, not wanting to seem like a total killjoy; before he spoke up.  
"I'll just be back in a sec, guys. Gotta use it." He stood and made his way away from the table; heading for the mens' bathroom at the back of the venue.

When he had washed his hands and had started to make his way back to the table; he felt a rumble in his stomach. He knew it was almost time for something to eat. Mordecai peered across to their table and noticed that Anders had ordered another round of drinks; despite not having finished their previous round. He knew that he should have expected it, judging by the amount of fun the two mammals were still having. If he could not leave to get food, he figured that he would settle for some bar-snacks. "What can I do ya for, sir?" The barman asked as Mordecai approached.  
"Can I get a few bags of peanuts? And some chips, too." He rummaged around for some more bills to pay the bartender with.  
"Certainly!" As he turned away, Mordecai's attention was drawn to the television mounted on the wall.  
"Welcome to the news at 5..." It appeared to be a local network; cheaply produced and simple. "Our top story tonight: Can sleeping make you thin? Join us later when we meet a local couple who claim that staying in bed all day can increase your physical fitness and burn off the pounds!" The barman returned with the tiny foil packets and placed them on the counter.  
"That'll be five bucks." Mordecai handed the cash over and scooped up the packages with his forearm. He was prepared to hobble back to the table on one crutch, when the TV distracted him again.  
"But first; several concerned residents living in and around a local apartment block reported a domestic disturbance in the early hours of this morning. Tenants reported hearing angered shouting and the sounds of objects being thrown and broken." Mordecai watched as the female news anchor quickly studied the pages in her hands. "Witnesses claim to have seen a young woman leaving the scene just a few minutes before the shouting began. Though it is thought that nobody was hurt in the incident, police are asking for anyone affected by the event to come forward in hopes of shedding more light on the situation." The report seemed mostly targeted at the people living around the apartment where the incident took place; or to the family and friends of those involved. No addresses were given; perhaps to keep the privacy of those involved secure.  
"Pfft; this neighbourhood just gets rougher every day." The barman shook his head and started wiping the bar down with the same damp rag he had been using for the whole afternoon. Mordecai turned around and headed back to the table with the snacks cradled against his chest. He thought little of what he had seen on the TV as he arrived back to his seat.  
"Hey! He's back! I gotcha another drink, man." Anders chuckled; his eyes having slight difficulty focusing. Rigby's top half was lying across the table. "Soda, right? And you bought snacks! Are those all for you?" He reached out a hand to pick a bag of the peanuts from the small stack. Mordecai let him at them; not hearing much in the way of gratitude. He mentally waved it off, placing the rest of the selection on the table for them to share. The badger started to wrestle with the well-sealed nibbles, aiming to prise the pack open.  
"Thanks for the drink, by the way." He wrapped his fingers around the cup and raised it.  
"No problem- gah!" Anders growled as the tough packaging suddenly tore open; showering peanuts across the table. The bag, now half-full, landed on the floor and skittered under the table. As he reached down to retrieve it, Mordecai felt Rigby nudge him in the elbow. He looked down in annoyance as his drink nearly spilled from the slight impact. Rigby was glancing at the cup in his hand, then to Mordecai; shaking his head sluggishly. His eyes were wandering every now and again; the alcohol having a pronounced effect on his reactions.  
"What, dude?" His annoyance was replaced with slight curiosity. "What's up?"  
"D-dude, don't." Rigby continued shaking his head; urgency showing through, despite the slowing effect of the booze.  
"What, why?" Rigby's eyes opened wide as he met resistance. He had no time to mess around. Before he could slur anything else, Anders had started to re-emerge from under the table. Before the European had sat completely upright, the raccoon swatted clumsily at Mordecai's hands; flinging the tumbler out of his grasp. The glass shattered on the hard floor.  
"What the heck, Rigby!?" Mordecai yelled. The bartender noticed the commotion.  
"Wait, what happened?" Anders asked. He noticed the shattered glass in a sparkling puddle just a few feet from the table. "Oh." He looked disappointed. The bartender had made his way over to them.  
"I'm sorry, man. It was-" Mordecai began to apologise as he turned to the man; but he waved his hand with a pleasant expression on his face.  
"Don't worry about it! Accidents happen." He had in his hands a mop, a broom and a dustpan. "You guys just return to enjoying your evening." Mordecai turned and glared at Rigby. Anders joined in. Rigby grinned back, but it was a grin of relief rather than defiance. Anders stood up and straightened up his jacket.  
"It's alright." He checked the dusty-looking clock that hung slightly crooked from a far wall. "I've got to get going, anyway. See you two later." Before they could reply, Anders had walked away.  
"Well, that was weird." Mordecai frowned. He turned to Rigby again. "You okay to walk?" The raccoon shrugged and tried to stand. He was shaky, but upright at least.  
"I think I g-" He belched unexpectedly. "I got it." He started uncertainly making his way to the exit.

When they were out on the street, there was no sign of Anders in either direction. "Maybe he like, ran home or something?" Mordecai reasoned. Rigby didn't seem to care so much. They stood silently in the cool breeze for a while; glad to be out of the stuffy bar.  
"Man I'm so... hungry." Rigby stumbled slightly on the spot, grabbing on to Mordecai's crutch for support. The jay shook him off of it, letting him stand for himself yet again.  
"You wanna go get some fries at the snack-bar or something? If we're quick we'll still make it." He knew that it would close in less than an hour, but he was willing to risk it. After such a long time subjected to Anders, he just wanted to hang out with his friend back at one of their familiar haunts. Rigby grinned.  
"Yeah dude! Let's get fries... and a burger... and a doughnut. Two doughnuts!" He turned and began on his way towards the park. Mordecai let the shaky raccoon lead the way.

They had only been walking for a minute, when Mordecai's cellphone started to vibrate for a couple of seconds. "Dude, hold up!" Rigby stopped and turned to face him. "I got a text." As he leant his crutch against his hip, he released his hand and reached for his phone. It vibrated again. He brought it out and looked at the screen. It vibrated a third time, then a fourth time. "Dude, what the... I guess I had no signal in the bar." He opened the first message. It was from Margaret.

"Mordecai, Gaila's here. Something's happened. I called Eileen but she's busy."

He opened the second. It was timestamped from an hour after the first one.

"Mordecai, I know you're probably at work, but I really need your help. Please get here asap."

And the third message.

"Mordecai! Gaila is really upset! I can't handle this all on my own. I'm trying, but I need you here too."

He dreaded what he would see when he opened the final message.

"She won't stop crying! I'm running out of ice-cream and patience, Mordecai."

He stared with an open beak as he thought of what to do. The last message was sent little under an hour ago. There was still a high chance that Gaila was still at Margaret's place.

"Mordecai, whassup?" Rigby mumbled, seeing the obvious concern in his eyes.

He didn't respond for a moment. Rigby repeated himself, stepping closer in an attempt to see the screen on his phone. As he reared up on his toes, the phone vibrated once more.

This time it was a new text; sent just seconds ago. Mordecai felt his pulse rising in his throat as he opened the message.

"I hope you're not ignoring me. I know your shift has finished by now. FYI I'm pissed, by the way."

"Oh no..." He groaned, turning on the spot and heading in the direction of Margaret's house. Rigby scampered along behind him.

"Mordecai, wait! I'm still hungry!"

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

It's been a long time, I know. Life has been rather busy recently; along with various technical issues with my PC. I've picked up the pace on Soda again. Every time I sit down to write it, I am reminded of how excited I am to get to the main points of the story. It's mostly all set in stone; (well, in my head) and I hope that you will stick with me while I get my butt in gear and finish this enormous undertaking.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter after such a long wait. Make sure to tell your RS-loving friends to come and check it out!

Again, another reminder that I've got a Tumblr that you can check out. I periodically upload drawings and stuff; which includes little illustrations to Soda. My URL is on my profile!

If I don't manage another update before Christmas; hope you have a good one! I'll be out of the country over Christmas and New Year, so I'll probably go quiet for a few weeks from the end of December.

-Sy


	12. Chapter 12: Lovin' in the Summer Time

Chapter 12: Lovin' in the Summer Time.

They stood outside the red robin's apartment, nervously waiting for a reply. The summer evening sunshine was warm on their skin, yet one of the duo felt a chill on their insides.  
"Dude, are you sure Margaret heard us?" Rigby gave his friend a nudge.  
"I guess she didn't." Mordecai raised a hand again, ready to rap his knuckles on the wooden door; when suddenly, it opened. He quickly dropped his hand down by his side and tried to act naturally; but his awkwardness made it all too obvious that he'd been caught out.

"Oh, hey guys." Margared seemed far less upset than the jay thought she would be. She looked sad; almost disappointed, but she was far from angry.

"H-hey Margaret..." Mordecai stammered. "...We came as soon as we could." She appeared as thought she bought it; offering them into the living room. Then again, maybe she just wasn't up for an argument at that moment.

They followed her in to her lounge, where Gaila was sitting on the couch. Tissues littered the table nearby, as well as the empty box they once resided in. Rigby silently made his way over to the open-plan kitchen and lent against the bar. Mordecai quietly murmured a greeting to the sparrow, who waved mildly in response. He perched himself tentatively on the sofa next to her. Margaret set about fetching a glass of water.  
They waited in relative quiet as the tension ruled over the group. Mordecai plucked up the courage and was the first to break the uneasy silence. "So, uh... What's the ma-" before he could finish, he was startled as Gaila burst in to tears, bawling her eyes out into a bunch of tissues she clutched in her hands. He quickly looked to Margaret for a cue. She rolled her eyes so that only Mordecai could see, but she certainly wasn't annoyed. It was as thought she was patiently shrugging it off; tolerating her. Rigby, not quite as heartless as he sometimes pretended to be; cautiously approached the crying sparrow.

"Hey, hey. What's up?" He asked, picking up where his friend left off. Gaila shook her head and tried to speak, but her sobbing drowned out what she had to say.

"Deep breaths!" Margaret reminded her from behind the breakfast bar. Gaila inhaled slowly, before shakily letting the air escape. The sobbing practically stopped; almost as though someone had closed the tap.

"C'mon Gaila, what's the matter?" Mordecai encouraged her to speak up; trying to find out what exactly had made her so upset. She sighed and cleared her throat.

"O-okay, well; there I was, at home." Gaila began, wiping the corner of her eye with a feathery finger. "I just couldn't stop thinking about... about..."

"Anders?" Rigby finished her sentence for her, prompting another spate of body-racking sobs. She caught herself quickly, before it got too out of hand again.

"Yeah... about Anders." She seemed to get angry at his mere mention; her eyebrows furrowing in the middle for a moment. "I remembered that I had his number, so I called him up. I so desperately wanted to see him again." She pulled a fresh tissue from a box that was balanced on the arm of the couch, quickly interrupting her story to blow her nose. The sound was unexpectedly guttural, making Rigby cringe. After she had quickly mopped up, she carried on. "He told me that he wanted to meet me again, so I went along with it. He suggested we should meet at a bar and catch up over something to drink." Her expression softened very quickly; going from anger to happiness in almost no time at all. It was almost like watching nostalgia catch someone unaware. "Anyway, he was just really sweet and polite. He paid for it all; and he even paid for a cab back to his place." Mordecai looked to Rigby, who stared back with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"He took you back... to his place?" The raccoon asked, still trying to make sense of the situation in his head.

"Yeah, he must have spent like seventy bucks in one evening. I figured I'd made a great choice; he was so handsome and chivalrous."

"Chisel-what?" Rigby interrupted.

"...Nice to me." Rigby screwed up his face for a second, wondering where the sudden vocabulary had sprung from. Eager to move away from the interruption, Mordecai urged her to continue.

"Well, basically, we ended up just..." The ecstatic grin that Gaila had started to show, along with her rising tone of voice was telltale enough. Margaret jumped in to save them the gory details.

"They made out... and stuff." Her quick interjection brought the highly emotional woman back down to Earth. Her natural shyness took over; taking the helm and steering her towards red-cheeked embarrassment. Sometimes she needed reminding who she was talking to. She silently thanked Margaret with a quick smile; her feathers still bristled slightly defensively.

"Yeah, we made out... and stuff."

"And stuff?" Rigby's ignorance almost appeared acted; as though he knew exactly what she meant, but wanted to hear more. He wasn't going to hear it.

"And, after a quick rest and a shower, he just started acting weird." She looked confused, as if weighing up the situation once more to attempt to figure it out.

"Weird?" Mordecai asked, hoping for clarification.

"Well, it was... I don't know... He was very disinterested all of a sudden." She scratched absently under her chin, getting beneath the feathers. "He barely even looked at me; just turned on the TV and started drinking a beer he got out of the fridge. I let it slide, but after a while, I felt like I was being ignored." She cleared her throat as she felt a lump start to form again. Just reliving the experience in words was enough to nearly set her off. "I tried to get closer to him; you know, just hugging and stuff like that. He kept on pushing me away. I got closer a couple of times, but every time he just didn't seem to care. It was like I was annoying him or something." She paused once more, collecting her thoughts. She took a deep breath as the most painful part made its way on to her tongue. "He got real angry and threatened to hit me when I tried to kiss him; then he called me all sorts of horrible names." She could feel the tears welling up yet again.

"Wait, what?!" Mordecai sat up, clenching his fists. "He tried to hit you?" His seldom-seen teeth bared in his beak.

"It was only a threat! You don't have to do anything. Please." Gaila panicked, grabbing on to Mordecai's forearm to stop him from rushing off. The thought of him getting violent on her behalf scared her immensely; not that Mordecai could have done much in his current state.

"I'm not going anywhere, yet. I want to hear it all first."

Rigby spent the whole time simply staring with a gaping mouth; occasionally forming silent or whispered words of disbelief.

"He didn't hit me; he just got real angry. He called me a load of nasty, horrid words and I just couldn't stand it. I ran away; kinda knowing where to go to get home. When I got a few yards away, I could hear these loud shouts and stuff, like he was arguing with someone." The description slowly clicked in to place as Mordecai remembered the news report from the bar.

"Wait! I think that was on the news!" He looked shocked; wondering quite how loud and violent Anders' reaction could have been to warrant an appearance in the media.

"No way!" Gaila looked horrified. The last thing she wanted was for their time together to be public knowledge.

"They didn't mention any names; but they said some people saw you leave. I guess it was you, I mean. I can't be sure."

"Why would they even bother putting that on TV, though?" Gaila couldn't quite wrap her head around the idea.

"Maybe someone thought you got hurt and reported it?" Mordecai shrugged, still stuck for proper reasoning himself. It seemed to be the only logical explanation. "They said stuff about hearing breaking junk and like, shouting. Maybe that was why?" In a round-about way, it made sense as a condolence for the young sparrow woman. It didn't appear to help, however.

"This is crazy!" She yelled. "What if my parents find out? Or my friends? They'll label me a-"

"Don't worry about it; please!" Margaret came to Mordecai's aid; approaching and taking Gaila's hands in her own. She clasped them gently to reassure her. "You heard what he said: nobody knew it was you, remember? They're probably just investigating some sort of criminal damage thing or something." None of them were sure as to why it had ended up on the news, still. It was perplexing and utterly strange that something seemingly so minor would require even local TV coverage.

"This is just not right. I'm going to go and talk to him." Mordecai made an effort to stand, urgently bustling towards the front door.

"Wait! Don't!" Gaila begged, not wanting to stir up more trouble.

"Yeah dude, it'll just make it worse!" Rigby agreed.

"What? No, man! If nobody puts this right, he'll do it again! You know what he's like, dude!" Mordecai couldn't believe that Rigby was just prepared to let it drop. Gaila seemed to fall silent as she considered his point. Margaret silently nodded in agreement.

"But if you go after him, he'll probably kill you or something! And skin your lifeless corpse!" He whimpered at the thought.

"You've been watching Corpse Skinner again." Mordecai rolled his eyes with a frown.

"I'm just sayin' it could happen." Rigby pointed a finger to make his point. It didn't work.

"Whatever. If you won't help me, I'll go on my own." The jay quickly turned and opened the door.

"Dude, wait!"

"I'll be fine!" And with that, Mordecai disappeared from view.

* * *

Mordecai, still reeling from the thought of Anders' treachery, repeatedly bashed his fist against the door. When the badger didn't respond, he resorted to clapping his open palm against the heavy wood. "What?!" He heard from inside. The voice sounded distressed. "What do you want?" His anger was apparent, but there was something else too. He could hear a hint of sadness in the Germanic tones. Mordecai thought for a moment that it could be remorse. He reserved his own anger for the time being; sighing as he tried to relax.

"It's me, dude. Can I come in for a bit?" He tried to sound friendly, which he knew would be difficult after the barrage against Anders' apartment.

"Why?" The question was defensive, sharp. "You'll just get angry or try to hurt me or something." Mordecai was silent. Something didn't seem right at all. Something was very odd about the way the badger was speaking. The sadness was being suppressed, but it was still there; of that he was certain. Could it have been remorse, as he thought? Was it something else? Fear?

"Dude, I'm not gonna hurt you." He partially lied; knowing that he would have enjoyed knocking some sense in to him after what he had done to Gaila. If it came to it, he knew he'd be ready to defend himself. "C'mon, I just want to talk."

He waited for an uncomfortably long time; hoping that Anders would allow for him. Sure enough, he heard the lock click; followed by the chain sliding across, and the heavy bolt slamming back from its position. The door creaked open, with the highly contrasting face peeking through the gap. His regular grin was absent; replaced with a tired, weathered expression. His usual red face-paint was no longer well-defined; simply smeared across his face. Quite how he had gotten this way in the few hours since their visit to the bar was beyond his reasoning. As Mordecai squinted to peer in to the darkness, he noticed the badger shaking ever so slightly.

"Dude, Anders. Are you okay?" He stepped forwards; Anders holding the door out of the way as he budged to let him in. The jay caught a glimpse of the state of his apartment. It looked as thought a bomb had gone off. All of their hard work from the weekend had been completely undone. "Anders?" He hoped to find out exactly what had happened.

"D'you want a drink?" Anders steered Mordecai's question away as he started to make his way towards the tiny kitchen. Mordecai's anger reared up again as he began to become frustrated. He was confused and he was determined to find out more. He held both crutches in one hand for just a moment, reaching out his freed hand to grab at the badger's shoulder. Anders flinched, yelping in surprise as Mordecai caught him. Startled by his reaction, Mordecai let him go; backing off in case he lashed out. Anders pushed his back up against the wall next to his kitchen and eyed the blue jay to ascertain his intentions. They stared silently at each other, weighing up the situation carefully. When Mordecai reached up to scratch his own chin the badger tensed up. He was perplexed by Anders' wide-eyed stare. As much as he felt hate for this man for what he had supposedly done to Gaila, he couldn't bring himself to show anger when presented with what he could only describe as fear.

"Uh, is something up, dude?" He asked, hoping to shed some light on the details. Anders looked at the floor, occasionally glancing up again to make sure Mordecai wasn't going to come any closer.

"No...Yes...yeah there's a whole lot up; but it's not really... uncomplicated." His grasp on English had slipped a little; his accent stronger than it was before. "But, you really can't be here...You have to go. Now." He turned and walked back past Mordecai, passing him with as much space as he could manage. He opened the door for him and attempted to usher him out. Mordecai felt the anger rise in him again; he wasn't about to let Anders avoid the main reason for his visit.

"Hang on! I came here to get some answers!" He yelled, again startling the European. The badger shrunk back; almost hiding himself behind the door to his own apartment. "You can't just run away from stuff like that! What the H were you thinking?!" Mordecai hobbled closer and glared. If he hadn't looked so pitiful, he would have attempted to beat the answers out of him. The lack of a smug expression dulled the edge of his anger, as he'd prepared himself to smack the grin off of his face upon arrival. "You made Gaila cry! All day! She's a wreck! She says it's because of something horrible you did, or said. I don't know her that well, but I know you!" Anders stayed silent, almost shivering with the confrontational nature of his unexpected guest. "Is it true? Did you... spend the night with her... then make her feel awful about it?" He left some room for Anders to reply, but when the answer wasn't forthcoming he raised his voice again. "Answer me!"

"Okay! Yes! I did sleep with her; and I did say those evil things! I can't deny it, but you-" He was cut short by a fist slapping in to his jaw. He stumbled backwards and slumped in to the corner, stunned by the ferocity that suddenly met him. He looked up in horror as Mordecai stood over him. The anger on the jay's face was something he hadn't seen before. "Wait! Wait! Please don't hurt me! Hear what I have to say!" Mordecai stood panting for a while, before Anders' words brought him back down. He looked down at his knuckles, which were bruised by the awkward angle they struck the badger's chin at. He thought perhaps a punch while still holding a crutch was not a good idea.

"How could you have a reason to do something like that? Why shouldn't I just wail on you til you pass out?"

"Because..." He paused, looking for a way that he could make sense. "... I-... I did do those things, but it wasn't me. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop." His approach had the total opposite of a desired effect. Mordecai looked horrified.

"So you're saying that you did it because you had to? Dude, you're sick! I'm calling the cops." He reached for his phone.

"Wait! You can't! I've not done anything illegal!" Mordecai stopped, thinking about it. He was right; Gaila had gone with him willingly, and being an asshole was not a criminal offense; merely just offensive. "I...just... I need help, but not medical or psy...psychi-...mental." He was only serving to confuse Mordecai all the more.

"What the heck are you talking about?" Mordecai was getting more and more frustrated at the situation. Anders desperately searched for an answer that would make sense, but he knew that whatever he said wouldn't be enough.

"Just listen to me! Please! I need you to leave! You have to go now!" He coughed and spluttered, trying to catch his breath.

"Why? I'm not leaving til you tell me why you did what you did!" Anders slumped over forwards, pushing the door closed as he continued to cough.

"Just... go... now..." He wheezed, keeling over. Mordecai wasn't sure if Anders was just trying to scare him, or whether he had just given up trying to find excuses.

"Dude, you're not fooling-" He stopped as Anders immediately sat bolt upright with a broad grin on his face.

"Should have listened, Mordecai." The jay was startled. Was it all just an act? Did he feel no remorse at all? Was he being tricked? Was it all just a game? He felt angrier than ever; embarrassed that he had fell for such a thing. He bared his teeth, but soon lost his nerve as Anders picked himself up off the floor with a menacing look in his eyes. It was as though the gloss had vanished as he stared on with dilated pupils; black pits that threatened to swallow him whole. His teeth looked sharper and stronger than ever. Something stung at the back of his mind; a sudden realisation. Something about Anders' demeanour was familiar. "You should have listened, but I guess it's too late now." He blinked, the shimmer returning again; along with the look of fear.

"Help me!" He begged before he fell to his knees again.

"Dude, this isn't funny anymore! You're freaking me out!" He backed off, stepping backwards further in to Anders' living room. A further spate of violent coughing from the badger kept Mordecai rooted to the spot. Something dark was starting to drip from Anders' mouth, slithering down as glossy strands and pooling on the carpet. He knelt up, leaning back and opening his mouth. His teeth were stained with the dark fluid; giving them a black and purple tint. Mordecai felt his feathers starting to stand as he heard a scream pierce the air; a rattling, agonised yowl. He stepped back, wanting to keep his distance. The scream became more and more of an atonal gurgle as more of the purple fluid started to fill the back of Anders' throat; before he finally slumped over backwards. He lay on his back with his arms outstretched and his knees painfully bent underneath him. The blue jay could barely speak. "Dude what the... I … I gotta..."

Mordecai felt sick to his stomach with what he was witnessing. He made a wide arc around the sprawled figure and reached for the door handle, taking his eyes off of the oozing, contorted face. He tried desperately to turn the handle, but his shaking made it almost impossible. He had no idea what was going on; but he didn't want to stay to find out.

"Going so soon?" Mordecai stopped dead as he heard the voice he had hoped never to hear again. He took quick, shallow breaths as he slowly turned to face the source. Anders was no longer on the floor; or in the room at all. He now gazed upon a horrible being that stooped underneath the ceiling. It had a long snout, gaunt figure and pointed nose. Its long arms and legs were host to distorted, razor-sharp claws at the ends of bony digits. Its eyes lacked any form of pupils; glowing with a sickly white light, and the dull grey and red-tinted skin lacked any form of hair, save for the scaly, greasy lengths that passed for the hair on his head. As far as he could tell, the figure was Anders; but the long horns, ears and reptilian tail told him otherwise. If it weren't for the familiar silver jacket, which was unzipped and now clung tightly to the creature's upper arms; and the torn-up jeans and boots; he would never have made the connection. The creature leaned forward, slowly invading Mordecai's personal space. The jay shook more and more violently as he watched his chances of survival dwindle before his eyes. His nightmares had become a part of his reality.

He was sure he was going to die.

* * *

Author's Notes:

_So I've been away over the new year; spent a couple of weeks hanging out with my girlfriend and her family. It was a grand ol' time, but I forgot some of the files I needed to continue Soda. Now that I'm back, I've pieced together all the separate bits of this chapter, and it's ready to go. It's a bit shorter than some of the others, but fear not; I'm part of the way through chapter 13 too, so you won't have to wait long to find out what happens next! (Just figured you guys would like a cliff-hanger to keep you... well, hanging.)_

For those of you who follow me on Tumblr for the illustrations I make for this story; this chapter is without any pretty pictures this week! Sorry. But Chapter 13 is a direct continuation; so I'll try and get a big series of pictures ready for when I release that.  


Hope you all enjoyed it, and I hope you all had a great Christmas/New Year!

-Sy


	13. Chapter 13: The Demon Seed

_Author's Notes:_

_So, here we are again! A direct continuation from the previous chapter for all of you to enjoy! Will Mordecai get out of this predicament alive? What will happen next? How will everyone deal with the shocking revelation?_

_Read on to find out!_

* * *

Chapter 13: The Demon Seed

"Surely you're not leaving. It would be a shame! You did walk all the way here, after all." The looming figure was stooping low under the ceiling, leering at Mordecai as he stood paralysed with fear. "Maybe you should sit down? You want some water?" The creature took on a pleasant tone for just a moment, gesturing with its hands. Its voice was a chorus of sounds that made hair and feather stand on end; ghostly and menacing, while oddly charismatic at the same time. All the while its voice was veiled in an animal growl that fluttered lazily across the ends of the words that poured from its mouth. The accent was gone; far more neutral now. It sounded almost dignified, as though the creature was educated at an Ivy-league school or red-brick institution. Mordecai stammered, tensing up his arms in case he had to quickly maneuver his walking sticks. "No?" It chuckled; a sickening, throaty sound. Its jovial face twisted to something far more horrifying as it shouted at a volume that made Mordecai's ears ring. "I insist!"

There was a sweeping sound as something flicked across the carpet, and before he knew it, he was falling. He yelled as he felt his legs and his crutches leave the floor in tandem, painfully landing on his behind. He bit his tongue as he hit the ground heavily; screwing his eyes shut as he felt the sharp shock through his jaw. The taste of blood was instantly apparent. Dazed, he leaned back, feeling his head and neck press up against the cool wood of the door. He panted as he felt adrenaline flow, trying to find the strength to pull himself up again. As he opened his eyes, he felt hot, rancid breath flow across his face. He blinked, grimacing as the smell threatened to choke him. The creature was just inches from his beak, staring him directly in the eyes; stooping down with its head practically between its knees to get to his level. "It's been fun, but you've caused quite a bit of trouble, Mordecai. I told you, didn't I? He tried to warn you, too. You should have left when you had the chance." A broad grin stretched across its face, revealing dagger-like teeth; a gleeful expression one might see on a child with candy. "Then again; why would I want you to leave? I've been waiting for quite a while to make you... disappear." Mordecai gulped. It was toying with him; reveling in the notion of killing him, of that he was certain. He wondered what forms of torture awaited him at the hands of the thing that now held him prisoner. His terror was all over his face; something that spurred the monster on. It gave a short and joyous laugh before grabbing Mordecai's left leg, dragging him across the carpet as it wheeled around. The sharp claws dug in to his tough skin, leaving some shallow scratches that stung fiercely, and he felt some of his feathers get pulled out as they snagged on the carpet. He breathed in sharply, holding his breath until he came to a stop in the middle of the living-room. When the creature took a step closer, leaning over his prone form, Mordecai finally pulled up the nerve to speak.

"What's going on!? What did you do to Anders!?" He was determined to get some answers, even if he was about to lose his life. He was so confused that he needed to know at least something so that he could get his final thoughts in order. It reached out a claw to scratch under Mordecai's chin; almost sweetly, save for the immediate and lethal danger it presented.

"C'mon now, Mordecai; I thought you were smarter than that. I am Anders. Always have been." The answer only served to confuse him more, his head buzzing with the adrenaline, vision swimming as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened.

"But…but…who, uh…what are you?" His thoughts kept on going back over what the confused and agitated-looking badger had said before his startling transformation.

"Oh, that doesn't really matter, does it? It's pretty complicated, to be honest." It seemed unlikely to reveal too much; but the way it spoke reminded him more of someone who was trying not to repeat a story they had told too many times before. "Besides; time is of the essence. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do, right? It's nothing personal." It raised its claws up and flexed its fingers. "Who am I kidding? It's pretty personal. You've caused quite a bit of trouble in a short time." With that, it grinned wide and brought its arm up as high as it could manage; ready to deliver what Mordecai knew would be a painful wound. He closed his eyes and shielded himself with his arms, quivering uncontrollably as he quickly recounted all of his regrets.

As the thoughts of loss passed by, a deafening commotion brought him round. For just a moment, he thought the raging hormones coursing through his body had deadened the impact; making the first slash painless. He blindly fumbled about with his hands, checking the integrity of his body. It was perfectly fine; even though his feathers were a bit ruffled. A familiar voice in the direction of the door made him open his eyes. "Not today!" The relief he felt was almost overwhelming. Even with the volatile nature of the situation, he couldn't help but smile brightly at the newcomer.

"Skips!" He yelled, able to see the imposing yeti standing in the doorway. The door itself lay on the floor; smashed from its hinges. The creature had turned to face him and now had its back to Mordecai. Skips seemed relieved to find Mordecai was still living, quickly smirking as he heard his voice; but he quickly went back to his normal stern glare as he stared the creature down.

"You?! Really?" The creature groaned with exasperation. "I thought you went to hide somewhere. Ah well; still not too busy playing the stoic hermit to come to the rescue, huh?"

"Keep your mouth shut!" Skips yelled, readying his fists. He was intent on saving his friend while he still had a chance. He knew that the jay's current condition would be a slight hindrance but he was more than prepared.

"Oh, sassy! I like it. You gonna knock one of my teeth out with your freakishly tiny hands again?" It jibed. Skips wasn't laughing. He simply grunted; his determined expression saying everything that needed to be said. "Wow, you're actually serious, aren't you? Okay then; let's go." Mordecai watched for his chance to escape as the two of them squared up. The tension was high all around, keeping him frozen to his spot on the floor as he worked himself up.

"Let Mordecai go, and I won't have to hurt you." Skips laid down his demands, waiting for it to comply. It simply laughed.

"What, now? After I finally got him all alone?" It looked over its shoulders at Mordecai, making his breath catch in his throat. He had a feeling that he should have tried to move earlier; but now he was in the creature's sights. It looked back to Skips. Mordecai wondered why Skips hadn't already attacked the creature. He hadn't hesitated before, but now he was simply standing his ground. He thought that maybe the creature was too powerful, even for Skips' immense punches. Then again; maybe there was something more to it. It did say that it was "complicated", after all.

"He doesn't deserve what you have planned; so let him go." Skips wasn't backing down.

"Actually, he doesn't deserve it. Yeah, you know; you're right! I should let him go, shouldn't I." The creature stepped aside, positioning itself near the entrance to the kitchen, getting both of the smaller beings in to its line of sight. "Hmm." It stroked its chin, as if thinking something over. Mordecai took this as a cue. Maybe he was actually free to go? He shakily started to get to his feet; his left leg stinging from the scratches on the skin. He levered himself up off of the floor using one of his crutches, slowly standing upright. Skips maintained eye contact with the creature, occasionally peering at Mordecai to check his progress. He seemed poised to strike at any moment, but he looked to be in no position to land a powerful blow.  
"Don't you dare." Skips narrowed his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning upwards as he screwed his face up.

"Relax, grandpa. He's walking, isn't he?" The creature rolled its eyes as Mordecai nervously tottered across the floor towards the yeti in the doorway. He had almost made it; nearly half way across the carpet. He focused wholeheartedly on reaching some semblance of safety, but he couldn't fight the feeling that it was too far away. "On second thoughts," Mordecai froze as he heard the voice again. "nah."

"Duck!" Skips' command practically threw Mordecai down by itself. He covered his head as he hit the floor; hearing something whoosh over his head before Skips charged past to land a heavy strike against the bridge of the creature's nose. He heard something break.

"Agh! Damnit!" Mordecai looked up to see it reeling back. Skips moved far quicker than the either of them had expected. Before he knew it, the yeti had turned and scooped his feeble form off of the floor. He headed for the battered exit, sailing through expertly, barely touching the ground as he ran.

"The elevator! Go, go!" Mordecai shouted as he spotted the silver box waiting with its doors open.

"On it!" Skips affirmed, dashing as quickly as he could towards it.

"Hurry!" He yelled again as the metal portal started to shut. It was just a few more steps, but Skips' wide frame was far too much to make it through the narrowing gap.

"Forget it! We'll take the stairs!" He made a u-turn, running back down the corridor towards the stairwell. As they passed Anders' ruined front door, the creature angrily threw itself through the frame; getting stuck on account of its large form. It managed to squeeze its hideous head and one of its arms through; reaching for the duo with its sharp claws as Skips expertly managed to avoid it. Mordecai felt the claws brush past his tail feathers as Skips made a close pass with the far wall.

"Come back here!" It bellowed as they left it behind. "I'm going to find you! You can't hide from me! You're all mine! Do you hear me?!"

* * *

"So... let me get this straight. Anders is some dude that is like... not a dude, but he's some kind of monster? But he's also a dude?" Rigby looked even more confused than usual; his eyebrows moving about with alarming frequency.

"Yeah dude, I'm telling you!" Mordecai wondered how long it would take for it to sink in. With Skips' testimony, he was sure it wouldn't take too much time, but it was still hard to get him to understand exactly what the situation was.

"It's true. I had this feeling about the guy all along, and now my worst fears have been confirmed." Skips watched as Rigby finally started to piece it all together. There was a pause as the gears turned.

"So...What is he, exactly?" Rigby hoped that Skips had the answer, as he often seemed to. Mordecai, still recovering from the ordeal, looked at Skips across the booth. He hadn't thought to ask since they left the apartment.

"Yeah Skips; you know about all this sorta stuff. What is he?" The yeti reached for a handful of curly fries from the basket at their table. He took a deep breath in and sighed.

"It's kinda complicated."

"Augh, that's what he told me!" Mordecai was frustrated. He wanted to know exactly what was trying to kill him. He didn't want to be caught out again.

"Look, it's complicated for a couple of reasons, alright? Even I don't know everything!" Skips refrained from eating the fries in his hand; instead holding on to them and letting them flop about while he talked; wagging them about like a stern finger. Mordecai rolled his eyes.

"But you can tell us what you know already, right?"

"Yeah, dude. What's the deal with this guy?" Rigby backed his friend up; curious to hear what they were dealing with. Skips stuffed the fries in to his mouth and greedily consumed them, before daintily wiping his mouth with a red and white checked serviette.

"Well, he's a guy from Germany, I'd be willing to bet..." He began. The other two simply looked at each other. Was Skips just messing with them?

"And?" Rigby raised an eyebrow, his voice expressing his impatience.

"...and he's also something else." This confused the duo even more.  
"What?" Mordecai tipped his head slightly as he thought it through.

"He's a guy from Germany; maybe on vacation or something, but he must be having a rough time of things. He somehow managed to pick up an unwelcome hitchhiker."

"Hitchhiker? You mean he's hiding someone in his apartment?!" Rigby looked horrified at the prospect of having shared the room with an unseen lurker.

"No."

"Oh...Then what do you mean?"

"I mean, he's got..." Skips leaned forwards and spoke quietly. "...He's got something else controlling his body. Anders isn't just who he appears to be on the outside."

"Well, yeah... He did just transform in to some weird lizard-beast thing." Mordecai had already worked that part out; he just needed the specifics.

"If you'll just let me finish..." Skips glared threateningly. Mordecai stayed silent. "... Anders must have done something, or experienced something depressing. Something must have gotten him so down that he lowered his guard. The thing that lives inside of him feeds off of negative energy." Rigby's eyes opened wide as he realised something. The combination of what Skips was saying, and the diner they had visited only a few days previously brought back a few memories from their trip to the hospital.

"Oh! Bad vibes!" He slammed a hand on the table triumphantly.

"Bad vibes." Skips took a sip of his drink.

"Wait, so... Because he got all sad about something, this thing just took over?" Mordecai wasn't sure how to process the information.

"Yes and no. As the host, he kinda maintains some control. Almost."

"How do you know all this?" Rigby asked.

"Because I do. Also, I knew a guy..." Skips left it at that; not wanting to delve further in to his history than he had to. "I guess you could say he's possessed, and the thing that possessed him drives him to do things that make people get upset. Doing so, it feeds on the negative reaction and it gains power. Think of it like a seed. As the seed grows in to a plant, it takes up more of its container, right?" He knew that the duo had some knowledge of horticulture from their time planting new trees at the park. They both nodded, almost able to keep up. "Well, this guy is like the container. The thing inside him is growing bigger every time it upsets somebody or hangs around people who get upset. As it gets stronger, the host loses more control."

"Woah, so when he was being a jerk, it was that thing making him do it?" Mordecai started to piece it together.

"Yup. Unless he's just a jerk to begin with; then we don't stand a chance."

"So, how does that tie in with the whole transformation thing?" Rigby couldn't see a connection.

"Well, that's what I'm still trying to work out. I guess, it fits with the whole 'seed' thing. I've seen this sort of possession before, but the guy I knew... well, let's just say it ended kinda fast." Skips looked apprehensive of going any further.

"Did he... you know...?"

"He lived at the top of a cliff. I don't know if it was an accident, or whether he managed to take control again." He looked sad for just a second; perhaps reminiscing on the final hours of one of his old friends.

"So the transformation thing...?" Mordecai reminded him.

"I've never seen that part of it before." The news made the two slackers feel uneasy. "I've been spending a few hours here and there looking at Anders' place. I got lucky, being there at the right time. I'm glad that I heard all that screaming, or I probably never would have been able to reach you in time." Mordecai felt his stomach tie itself in a knot. The reality of the situation started to feel heavy about his shoulders. He had come so close to death, yet survived. He wondered if he would be so lucky the next time.

"Thanks for, ya know... saving me and stuff." He looked away awkwardly, trying to stop the sudden onset of shaking from making his voice waver.

"It was no big deal; I've saved you guys dozens of times." Skips chuckled throatily before taking another sip of his drink. The other two looked at each other, then looked back to Skips to nod in agreement. "We need to come up with a way of stopping whatever it is that has control of the guy. If we don't, I don't even want to think about what could happen."

* * *

"We're so dead, dude." Mordecai couldn't help but shake off the feeling of dread as they made their way back to Margaret's place.

"Don't worry about it Mordecai. You know what Skips can do; he's kind of a big deal! Besides, Anders ain't so tough. I nearly clawed his eyes out one time; remember?" Rigby shrugged off his concern as they wandered through the twilit streets towards the robin's apartment.

"No, no dude. You weren't there." Mordecai glared, not quite sure if Rigby had quite understood the severity of the situation.

"Ugh, you sound like you came back from a war or something." Rigby rolled his eyes.

"You have no idea how crazy that thing is, do you?" The jay raised an eyebrow. "And don't forget he knows where we live."

"Yeah, he knows where you live! I'm staying at Margaret's." Rigby smugly proclaimed, pointing to himself with his eyes lidded to accompany his grin.

"He knows where Margaret lives, too." Rigby's expression changed instantly. He looked up at Mordecai as they both stopped walking.

"We're going to die, aren't we." A statement that felt completely true to them both left the raccoon's lips. Mordecai nodded gravely. "Aw man! And I never even got to taste the Ultimeatum!"

"What? That's all you're worried about?" Mordecai sounded surprised, but thought better of it. This was Rigby he was talking to, after all. "Never mind. Let's just get to her place, then we'll figure out what to do. We gotta think about it so we can give him our ideas tomorrow."

"Where do you think he went, anyway?" Rigby questioned, unsure of where the yeti was staying.

"I don't know, dude. I just hope he can help us."

They continued walking in silence for a while, still on their way towards Margaret's place. Their thoughts had them completely occupied, unable to utter much else on the subject as they both thought about what to do, as well as what they would miss if Anders got his way. So deep were their thoughts, in fact, that Mordecai nearly failed to notice his phone vibrating. Rigby brought him round, noticing the ring-tone. "Dude! Your phone's ringing."

"Aw, man!" He stopped still and quickly grabbed for it, letting the crutch fall away from his hand. It dangled from his wrist awkwardly by the plastic cuff as he tried to get the phone up to his ear. He wasn't able to check the display for the caller ID. "H-hello?" He supported himself on his other crutch, still wary of knocking his foot against the ground. An unfamiliar voice answered.

"Hello? Is this...Mor-ce-dai?" The voice was deep, but unmistakably female.

"Uh, it's... Mordecai." He corrected her, but was quiet for a moment while he tried to figure out who they were, and more importantly; what they wanted.

"Hello Mordecai." She sounded worried, but was trying her best to be polite.

"Uh, hi. Who's this?"

"Is someone pranking you, dude?" Rigby asked. Mordecai scowled at him to get him to be quiet.

"Uhm, I do not think that is important right now. I just found your number and-"

"Doctor Askinovskovich?" Mordecai could vaguely make out a European accent over the phone.

"...Who? Who is that?" The mystery person was confused.

"Uhh-nobody. No-one. Don't worry about it! Haha-uh." Mordecai cleared his throat anxiously as his wild guess failed to pay off.

"Look, Mordecai; I just had to call to find out if you knew anything about Sebastian." Mordecai thought for a second. He knew nobody called Sebastian. Perhaps they had the wrong number?

"I think you might have the wrong person. Sorry."

"I see." She sounded disappointed. "Well, thank you anyway. Sorry to bother you." She hung up with little hesitation. Mordecai took the phone from his ear and looked at the display. It was a number he did not recognise.

"Dude, who was it?" Rigby asked, tugging at his friend's arm so that he could see the tiny display.

"Someone asking for a guy called Sebastian? I don't know man, she didn't give me her name."

"Let me see!" He got a glimpse of the caller ID before it disappeared from the screen. He managed to spot the area code. "Dude, that's someone from in the city."

"It's local? So how did she know my..." He froze and stared off in to space as something clicked in his brain. "...She knew my name."

"Spooky." Rigby joined him in the thousand-yard stare. Mordecai quickly snapped out of it.

"No, dude! She knew my name! I gotta call back." He feverishly went to the list of previous calls, tapping the buttons on his phone hastily. He showed the number to Rigby. "You know who this is?" The raccoon screwed his face up for a minute, thinking through all the numbers he knew. "C'mon! Quick!"

"Alright, alright! Gimme a second!" He snapped. "Hmmm. I think that's from Anders' apartment." Without a moment to lose, Mordecai called the number. The same woman answered after only a few seconds.

"Hello?" The accent was far more recognisable with some context. She was German.

"Hey, this is Mordecai... Again. Uhm, I just wanna know; how do you know my name?" He was nervous, wondering if she had anything to do with Anders and his predicament.

"It's right here, on this scrap of paper. I found it where I thought Sebastian was staying." There was that name again: Sebastian. Who on Earth was Sebastian?

"R-right. So, you're at his-"

"Apartment, yes." The woman finished his sentence for him.

"And Sebastian, who's that guy?"

"I would assume that you know him, seeing as he has your phone number." Before Mordecai could reply, she continued. "Wait a minute; you don't remember him, but he has your phone number?" She sounded surprised.

"I don't really know how he got my number."

"Maybe you just don't recall meeting him? I mean, I would understand if... You know: it was a one-off, or something."

"Wait, wait!" Mordecai's brow furrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying, you might have met before, but due to... circumstances... you don't remember."

"I've never done that, ever!" He yelled. He didn't like what she was implying; not one bit. The woman paused. When Mordecai thought he had scared her away, he continued in a calmer manner. "Okay, look: just tell me what he looked like, and I'll tell you if I've met him before."

"Well, he is about one-seventy," a measurement that Mordecai didn't quite grasp, "he has quite long, dark hair. He's got a white face, with two black stripes from his forehead to his nose. Kind of shy and-" Mordecai interrupted her mid-sentence. The description fit one person he knew of; and even then, only partly. The realisation was startling.

"I-I think I know who you mean!" His beak hung open slightly in shock. Was Sebastian actually Anders? "You're at his place right now, then?"

"Yes, we're looking around for some sign of what happened here. The place is an absolute mess." Mordecai knew that this woman might have some clues as to where Anders had come from; or rather, Sebastian. He thought it was too big of an opportunity to pass up.

"Stay there and I'll come by. If you know him, I really have to speak to you!"

"Wait, what's going-"

"No time to explain! I'll talk to you about it in like..." He checked where they were, trying to think about how far they had to walk. "...three minutes!" Before she could reply, he had hung up.

The duo set off towards Anders' apartment, hoping that whoever this person was would have all the answers they needed.

* * *

_Author's Notes (part 2):_

_So, as promised; a fairly punctual update to what is essentially one large chapter cut in to two parts. I'll be putting some pictures on my tumblr that coincide with this chapter and the previous one; so be sure to get over there and check it out! (I use the same name over there as I do on here)._

_I hope you're all enjoying it so far! I enjoy writing it, so I hope if you got this far, you're enjoying reading it._

_The new character will be revealed in the next chapter, as well as some hints as to exactly who Anders is and where he comes from. See you all again soon._

_-Sy_


	14. Chapter 14: I Badger Didn't Expect That!

_Author's Notes: Sorry for the slow updates guys and girls. I have been absolutely laden with other things recently, including auditioning for, writing for, performing for (and being asked to leave) a band. And all in the space of a fortnight! What fun._

Anyway; here's the next chapter for you all to enjoy (or scoff at as the case may be). I'm hoping to pick up the pace again, but I cannot make any promises! School work and career comes first; sorry!

* * *

Chapter 14: I Badger Didn't Expect That!

The sun was almost set as they made their way across the city. All around, people were enjoying the warm yet breezy summer evening; milling about and spending their time eating, drinking and laughing. It was moments like these that made Mordecai feel truly isolated from the world; trying to stop a hideous monster that could potentially destroy everything he had, while the world at large didn't seem to know anything about it. They all had their own lives to be getting on with; children to care for, jobs to do, court dates to attend. It was enough food for thought to make any ordinary person feel rather insignificant, and though the jay was used to dealing with horrors of a supernatural bent on a near daily basis; he still felt exceptionally ordinary indeed.

"Dude, do you think she'll be able to help us?" Rigby asked. "If she knows him, she might be good for something."

"I dunno man, but at this point I'd rather risk it and have her be another demon thing; instead of just letting her get away." Mordecai replied, desperate to stop Anders in any way he could. The duo continued on their way to Anders' apartment, hoping that the mystery woman had kept her word.

The street lights were mostly lit by the time they arrived. They made their way to the elevator in the courtyard, waiting impatiently for the doors to open. "Auugh what's taking it so long?" Rigby complained. Mordecai rocked gently on his crutches, sighing.

"It's coming down from the top floor, dude. You whining isn't going to make it go any faster." The raccoon seemed to ignore him.

"Aw man, we shoulda just taken the stairs." He hung his arms down by his sides, groaning with exaggerated boredom.

"Uh huh, and how am I gonna climb three floors like this?" His friend leaned as he raised one of the walking sticks up in to his view. The tiny man folded his arms indignantly. "Besides, you'd probably just complain about how long it takes to climb stairs anyway." Rigby growled.

"Stop talking!"

"It's true though, Rigby. Admit it!" Mordecai scolded, his brow creasing with frustration.

"No! Shut it!" The raccoon yelled, pointing a tiny finger as he glared.

"Whatever, dude." Mordecai resigned to the stubborn attitude. "Elevator's here now anyway." The door slid open.

"Hmm! Hmm! Ow!" Rigby's celebration ended quickly when his friend kicked him in the rear as he swung by on his crutches. Mordecai returned the smug look that Rigby had shot him just a moment before; making him grumble. "You'll pay for that."

"Uh-huh." Mordecai shrugged off his threat, just eager to meet whoever it was who had called him. He pressed the button for the right floor, hitting the door-close button just as Rigby stepped across the threshold. The doors slid shut and the elevator made its ascent. The icy silence of his companion didn't last for long.

"You're a butt." He complained again.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Mordecai laughed at him and rolled his eyes. Rigby seethed.

"Captain Butt of the butt navy." His childish insults were pitiable. Mordecai sighed.

"Wow dude, I'm really payin' for it, aren't I? Stop, it's too much." His sarcasm frustrated the raccoon to no end. "You sure know a lot about butts, Rigby. I'm surprised, seeing as you've only got a half."

"Shut up!" His anguished shriek was both sad and funny. Mordecai tried not to laugh out loud as Rigby attempted to pummel his torso with tiny punches. "It's not funny dude! I gotta live with this crap!" Mordecai reached down and ruffled his hair patronisingly.

"Okay man, I'm sorry." Rigby seemed to calm down, but frowned as his hair was messed up. "It is pretty funny though."

"I'll kill you!" He screamed, resuming his volley of punches as he tried to beat Mordecai in to submission.

Mordecai was laughing so hard by the time the elevator stopped that he failed to notice the doors opening again. His laughter became a yell, then it cut short as someone barrelled in to the tiny metal box. He gurgled as he felt a strong hand wrap around his neck and slam him in to the back wall. The metallic impact reverberated up the elevator shaft. When he could focus, he saw the perpetrator. Two big, staring eyes quickly looked him up and down, a frown forming on the owner's green, scaly brow. He tried to catch his breath as the stranger began to choke him.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" It was a male voice, for certain. It was rough and hostile, hissing menacingly. His accent was European, but it was vastly different from the accent they were used to.

"What the heck man!?" Rigby whimpered, taken completely by surprise by the intrusion. He had shrunk back in to the corner of the elevator car and was trying to pluck up the courage to stand properly again.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?!" He repeated, emphasising the important words. "Tell me!"

"We're just two guys, man! Stop!" Rigby shakily drew himself up to his full height; about three feet, and tried to assert himself. "Let him go!"

"Don't make me ask you again!" The stranger barked, his grip tightening. Mordecai's eyes rolled back as he felt his breath running out. The newcomer had his other hand pressed against the hold button to keep them where he wanted them.

"Dude, let him go or I'll-" He was interrupted.

"You'll what? Gnaw on m-" The reptile let go of Mordecai as Rigby sunk his teeth in to his thigh. He howled and swatted at the raccoon, backing out of the elevator with Rigby still attached. Mordecai quickly got his breath back, gasping and panting as he steadied himself and hobbled out after them. The struggle continued for a few moments before a loud, piercing wolf-whistle rang through the air. The man; who Mordecai guessed to be some sort of gecko, turned to face the source. Rigby let go and fell to the ground.

"Ah man! He tastes like... like... ugh."

"What's going on out here?!" An authoritative voice demanded an answer. "I could do without an assault charge looming over us, Marcel." Marcel stood down, looking away awkwardly. He winced as his hand groped at the puncture marks in his combat fatigues. "It's not like you're inconspicuous, either. I told you not to bring camouflage; it's ridiculous." A female badger made her way towards the three of them. She walked with confidence, and her black skirt suit with pink trim and high-heels gave a physical form that suited her voice.

"Inconspicu-what-now?" Rigby raised an eyebrow. Mordecai ignored him; instead watching the woman approach them. The badger stared at the both of them; inspecting them and trying to figure out who they were. She didn't want to reveal too much if they weren't who she was expecting. The man she had spoken to on the phone hadn't mentioned that he was bringing a friend.

"So, to whom do I owe this pleasure?" Her question was smooth, but at the same time, partly hostile; defensive. She stood with her arms folded while she waited for an answer.

"Whom?" Rigby's confusion continued.

"Sorry for the uh, intrusion..." Mordecai tried to keep his cool, wanting to be polite in case the irate gecko took exception to him again. "...ma'am." Rigby gave him a strange look.

"So it is you!" The woman's face lit up. "You're the man I spoke to on the phone; correct?"

"I think so." Mordecai chuckled nervously.

"And this is your current... significant other?" She smiled warmly, obviously well-meaning.

"What?! No! No, no! We're just friends!" Mordecai was mortified by her assumption, hoping that he had made it perfectly clear before.

"Oh, well I'm sure Sebastian and you will be very happy together once we-" Mordecai lost his temper very quickly, shouting to interrupt her.

"No, you don't get it! We just know each other. Anders- uh, Sebastian..." He quickly corrected himself, "... is a friend." He used the term 'friend' loosely, but he didn't want to get too specific too soon. "Someone else must have given him my number." He glared at Rigby. The raccoon simply smirked, catching up with what was going on. Mordecai knew he would probably get teased for this whole misunderstanding later, but he forged ahead; eager to break the news to the authoritative woman stood opposite. The badger blushed, biting her lip and looking away for a moment.

"Oh my... this is... awkward." She laughed nervously as she tried to shrug off her somewhat hasty misconceptions. "So you're not..?" She didn't finish her question, but the inflection was there.

"No." Mordecai said flatly, frowning.

"Well, I do apologise." She shuffled awkwardly on the spot. "Please, I beg your forgiveness." She bowed her head.

"Uh, yeah." Mordecai looked to Rigby, who shrugged. There was a moment of silence; not one daring to talk until the tension had passed. Marcel continued to rub at his leg, where tiny spots of blood had appeared through the fabric.

"So, uhm. You've got information on my brother's whereabouts?" The woman looked up again hopefully.

"Your brother?" Rigby replied with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes; Sebastian is my younger brother." The duo stared at her; wondering how they hadn't made the connection before. She was the same exact species, and even stood at the same height; though they were unsure if that was just down to her high-heels. She stepped forward and held out a hand. "We got off to a bad start; I am sorry." Mordecai took her hand and shook it firmly. When it came to Rigby's turn, he shook it limply. "My name is Adelheid; but you can call me Ada. It is very nice to meet you, Mordecai. And you..." She quickly glanced to Rigby.

"Rigby." The raccoon stated with irritation.

"Rigby; that's a... nice name." It was almost as though Ada couldn't keep a straight face as she repeated it.

"Yeah, uh. We just had to meet you because-" Mordecai stopped mid-sentence as Rigby slapped his side. "Look, we should probably go and find a place to sit while we talk." Mordecai didn't want to start discussing such a delicate and dangerous matter in the middle of a hallway.

"Yes, of course." Ada motioned to his cast. "Where should we go? My brother's apartment is rather messy at the moment, so it might not be the best place to-"

"That's your blood." Marcel interrupted. Ada's annoyed stare held daggers.

"What?" Mordecai was unsure as to what he was getting at.

"Your blood; on the carpet. In there." The gecko pointed at the door to Ander's apartment with one of his bright blue hands. "I noticed the cuts on your leg." Mordecai looked down at the scratches on his tough skin. He was surprised the demon's claws hadn't sunk in any further.

"How did you know it was my blood?" He sounded both impressed and partly scared.

"You just told me." The gecko smirked smugly and laughed. "You're not very good at keeping secrets." Mordecai rolled his eyes.

"Very funny." He shifted on the spot, his hands already getting tired from supporting his weight.

"Marcel! I was talking!" Ada snapped at him; her voice more of a bark. It made the three men jump in their skin. Marcel stepped down quickly.

"Sorry." Ada's demeanour changed quickly once more.

"This is my... uh..."

"Hired goon?" Rigby jibed. Marcel hissed.

"...tracker, Marcel." She corrected Rigby; though he was technically right.

"With the money you are paying me, ma'am; you're lucky I'm even 'your' anything."

"Shut your hole, Marcel. You still owe me a favour."

Mordecai glanced down at Rigby, sharing a silent look of disbelief. Ada had the capacity to be both sweet and warm, and incredibly blunt; flashing between them in the blink of an eye.

"So, uh..." Mordecai interrupted, in case a fight were to break out. "...I know this diner we can go to, if you want."

"No, no. Too public." Marcel very quickly dismissed his idea, but Ada raised a hand.

"Be quiet, Marcel!" She cleared her throat and continued sweetly once more. "A diner, you say? Come to think of it, I'm absolutely famished. I'm meant to be on a diet, but you know; 'when in Rome...' and all that." A smile lit up her face. Rigby mirrored it, feeling hungry as well. Marcel opened his mouth to protest, but Ada's hand was still raised; a sure sign that he was on dangerously thin ice.

"It's just a few blocks away. Shouldn't take long." Mordecai smiled, happy to know that Ada was so willing to talk about it.

"Splendid!" Ada clapped her hands together, maintaining the grin. Her teeth were pristine, white and sharp; almost as menacing as Anders had been when they had first met. As it turned out, they had a lot in common; most notably their decision to wear make-up. That said, Adelheid was wearing more of what was typically expected on a woman's face, rather than the strange clown make-up her brother wore. She had pink eye-shadow and lipstick, with black mascara. It was intended to be quite subtle, but her black fur made the pink details stand out considerably. "So, shall we go?" Marcel frowned and sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to win her over. He looked down at his camouflage and wondered aloud.

"Should I go and change?" Though he was most comfortable in his woodland attire, he was willing to do what it took to get in to his employer's good books. He realised he had made a mistake by speaking out before, and intended on keeping Ada interested; if only to ensure he got his payment.

"Are you wearing a shirt under that jacket?" She asked.

"Yeah, but..."

"Then just take the jacket off." She flippantly waved her hand and started on the way towards the elevator; brushing past Mordecai and Rigby on the way. Marcel grumbled and unzipped his hooded top. He dropped a small satchel to the floor, letting it fall from his shoulder. He pulled his arms out; one of the sleeves sticking to his broad fingers as he withdrew his hand. He tutted and shook his hand, trying to get it free. Rigby spotted a patch on the shoulder of his jacket; black, yellow and red.

"Hey, are you from Germany too?" The raccoon couldn't resist asking; his accent confusing him slightly.

"What? No. Are you stupid?" Marcel scoffed, managing to remove his jacket and packing it away in to the bag at his feet. Rigby was taken back by the snappy retort.

"But you got the flag on your..."

"Americans." Marcel growled under his breath, zipping the satchel back up before slinging it on to his shoulder again. His plain grey shirt was mildly stained, and the summer heat had caused Marcel's sweat to soak through it in huge, conspicuous patches.

"Woah, man. What gives? I was only asking."

"Listen, 'dude'." He mocked their way of talking. "I'm just here on work, okay? I have to follow this control-freak around to find a guy I don't really care about, in a country I have hated every second since I stepped off of that plane." He was keeping his voice down so that Ada wouldn't hear him, but his venomous remarks were still aggressive.

"Hey! Quit being such a jerk!" Rigby yelled, pointing his finger. "First you hurt my friend; then you say bad stuff about where I live? You're lucky I didn't bite you harder!"

"You couldn't have; I saw your jaw clenching up. You were trying so hard. I'm surprised you can even chew your food; you little rat." Marcel shoved him out of the way as he made his way towards the elevator with his boss. The doors slid open with a chiming sound.

"Marcel! Stop harassing them! They have important information, and I also think they are rather nice young men. They don't deserve your vitriol." Adelheid turned to face out of the elevator car as she stepped inside, her heels clacking loudly against the hard floor of it. Marcel begrudgingly obeyed.

"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am." He grumbled as he joined her and turned to face out as well. He stood waiting for Mordecai and Rigby to join them. He sighed as he began to relax again, but was set on edge again when something struck him sharply in the back of the head. He yelped and stumbled forwards as Ada drew her hand back to her side.

"And you might not care for America, or for my brother, but I certainly do! You do not talk like that when you are stood around me! Am I making myself perfectly clear?" Her stern voice was icy and loud, making the two Americans wince as it echoed through the hallway.

"Y-yes ma'am!" He rubbed the back of his head, standing up shakily as his vision swam. Mordecai and Rigby stepped up alongside the other two, taking up their awkward positions facing the elevator doors as they closed. Rigby snickered as he went over how Ada treated Marcel.

"She got you good, Mark." His laughter was cut short as he felt a hand roughly cuff his ear.

"Shut it, you little- OW!" Marcel growled with frustration as Adelheid hit him even harder.

"Marcel!" She yapped.

"Alright, alright!" He winced as he rubbed the sore spot on his bare skin.

Rigby laughed again, cupping his slightly swollen ear with a hand.

Soon, they had reached the diner. They hadn't paid much heed to it before the summer had started, but it was soon developing its own personality; a bank of memories that would stay with them for a long while.

"Here we are!" Mordecai declared. He motioned to it with a crutch. "So what do you think?"

Marcel groaned. "I think it's a-"

"Amazing!" Ada's face lit up. "To think; I've been in America for nearly a week, and I've still not seen a nineteen-hundreds diner car as authentic as this!" She stepped up to the front of the building through the parking lot with her hands clasped together in front of her mouth. Mordecai looked to Rigby, wondering if he was thinking the same thing. He was. Why the look of bewilderment? What was so great about a greasy diner like this one? "It's beautiful." She turned around with a childlike look of wonder on her face. "Let's go inside!"

They followed her in to the establishment, quickly meeting with a waitress. "Hello and welcome! Table for four?" She asked them, paying no heed to what a jumble of characters they were. She had come to expect things like this in the city; no stranger to the eccentric, and sometimes supernatural elements of society.

"Yes please." Ada answered for them, eager to get the authentic American dining experience. Her enthusiasm was still vexing to all three of the guys.

"Okay then! If you'd like to follow me..." The waitress grabbed four fake leather-bound menus and strutted through the long diner. She led them to a booth at the far end; the same booth in which Rigby had been fired.  
They sat around the table with Mordecai and Rigby sitting opposite the European visitors. "Here are your menus." The waitress cheerfully passed out the tacky, slightly oily leather folders. "Would you care for a drink while you wait?" Marcel immediately jumped at the chance.

"A double scotch on the rocks." The waitress screwed up her face in apparent disappointment.

"I'm terribly sorry sir, but we don't stock alcohol on the premises." The gecko let out a sound not unlike that of a steam valve opening.

"Fine, I'll have a water. I shall not partake in whatever poor quality slop you refer to as 'coffee'." He waved a hand in a rude, dismissive manner. It was a mistake. Without looking up from her menu, Adelheid drove the pointed heel of her shoe in to gecko's naked foot. Marcel winced and choked, trying not to scream as he felt his tendons slide over bone with a gristly crunch. Ada looked up with a smile.

"I would love to try your coffee. Cream, but no sugar please." She politely returned to her perusal of the menu, leaving the waitress with a satisfied and mildly sadistic grin. She jotted a quick note on a scrap of paper in the palm of her hand before turning to Mordecai and Rigby.

"Uhm yeah, can we get two more coffees; one black, and one with sugar. Thanks."

"Better make that about three spoons." Rigby raised a hand slightly as he added to their order. The waitress; still happy with the purple tint appearing in Marcel's cheeks as he silently burned up, ignored the almost negligible lack of manners from the two younger men. She nodded to make a confirmation.

"I'll be back with your drinks in a moment!" She bustled away to the bar, ready to prepare a filter for the percolator.

They waited awkwardly as Ada hummed a jaunty tune to herself; seemingly without a care in the world. It was as though she was a kid at a theme park; like the diner was somehow her favourite place in the whole world. "Oh, the pancakes look great." She stated out loud; more-so to herself than to anyone nearby. Mordecai stood up; being on the outermost edge of the bench.

"Uh, I'm just... going out for some air." He stood and made his way over to the doors. Rigby could tell that there was something bothering his friend from the tone of his voice. He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but he had an inkling.

"Yeah me too." He scampered after the jay as the doors started to swing closed. He slipped out through the shrinking gap on all-fours.

"Dude, did you see that?!" Mordecai sounded distressed, but mostly in disbelief. He felt some kind of empathy for Marcel, seeing how his foot was still in a cast.

"She's crazy, man! I mean, the guy's a huge jerk, but I dunno if he needed that." Rigby glanced over his shoulder towards the window, where he could just about see the back of Marcel's bald head.

"She's wearing stilettos, dude! They look like... like..." He could barely think of a simile for them. They just looked painful. Marcel seemed like a stalwart kind of guy; rough and ready for anything. If Ada's footwear was enough to make him break his façade of confidence, it must have hurt a whole lot more than Marcel even showed. He was even more horrified by the way she could inflict serious pain on someone she was supposedly employing, and shrug it off with nothing but a cheerful tune.

"I guess we gotta trust her though, man. She's like, the only person who can really help us. Not even Skips knows what to do!" Rigby was being oddly reasonable at that moment. Mordecai tried to calm himself down, taking a few deep breaths. After a few seconds to regain his composure, he spoke up.

"Okay. Okay, dude. We need her, and she hasn't really done anything bad to us yet; right? Maybe she's not as bad as we think, and she just hates Marcel or whatever."

"Honestly, I kinda hate him too, so I can't really blame her." Rigby shrugged. Mordecai had to admit to himself that he hadn't taken a liking to Marcel either. His neck was still sore from the gecko's initial attack.

"Hm, well... He's a 'tracker', whatever that means."

"Like a hunter?" Rigby cottoned on to the idea quickly.

"I guess so. Maybe that means he can help us find Anders...or Sebastian, or whatever his name was." Mordecai sighed and pressed his fingertips against his forehead; trying to relax again after remembering what the demon was capable of. "I guess we just have to put up with him for now. Without Marcel, we probably won't be able to find him, and if we don't find him, he'll-"

"Kill us in our sleep." Rigby finished Mordecai's sentence for him, leaving them both in a stunned silence. It didn't bear thinking about.

After recovering from the chill he felt up his spine, Mordecai sighed and looked to his friend once more. His stomach rumbled audibly, reminding him of why he had brought Ada and Marcel to the diner in the first place. "Should we, uh, go inside again? We gotta tell her what's up."

"Yeah dude, I'm starving."


	15. Chapter 15: Of Daunting Quests

Chapter 15: Of Daunting Quests and Unwanted Guests

* * *

_Author's notes:_

_So, it's been a little while since the last chapter went up. Sorry about that, again. I've been quite preoccupied during my spring break with matters of varying natures. Most notable of these is the launch of my new interactive story/webcomic "Andromeda League". It's hosted on Tumblr (andromedaleague), and it requires reader input to progress. I'd really appreciate if you guys could check it out at some point!_

_Anyway, on with the shooOOOOOOOOoohhw!_

* * *

"So tell me," Adelheid began, "when was the last time you saw Sebastian?" She grabbed a handful of greasy fries from the basket at their table. "Was it recently?" Mordecai looked to Rigby for some inspiration. It wasn't forthcoming. He wasn't entirely sure how to break the news to her, knowing that she would probably think it was all a big joke.

"Yeah, we saw him yesterday." Ada seemed satisfied with the response, believing her search was nearing the end.

"Excellent! Where was this?"

"Back at his apartment." Mordecai tried not to reveal too much at once. Thankfully her questions were quite simple to begin with.

"Really? That is intriguing." She nibbled at some of the fried potato she held in her fingers, thinking through his reply. "I wonder if something happened to him."

"Ma'am, if I may?" Marcel cautiously interrupted.

"Yes?" Ada snapped at him.

"It looked as though there was some kind of animal attack at the apartment."

"Ha! An animal attack inside? That's preposterous." Ada rolled her eyes. "Sebastian's place was at the top floor in that block. Why would an animal attack him that far up?"

"I know how it must seem, but the door was ripped from its hinges, and the room was completely messed up. It was a very large animal, I'd bet. Maybe a bear." The gecko seemed quite serious.

"Don't talk such rot." She waved it off and reached for another helping of fries.

"Well, how about we ask your new best friend Mordecai? His blood was on the carpet in there; he'll know." Mordecai gulped, nearly choking on his food. Marcel was exactly right.

"Uh well, uhm." He stammered, feeling a mite uncertain about what to say.

"Oh, Marcel. Sometimes I forget why I hired you." Adelheid turned to Mordecai, expecting some information. "Yes, do tell us what happened."

"Well, you see, the thing is...I just, you know..." He laughed nervously as he tried to piece it together in his head. He couldn't bring himself to tell them that there was no bear, but at the same time he couldn't reveal the truth right then and there. He wondered if they would laugh when he told them that her brother had been possessed by a demonic entity.

He didn't have to wait for long before Rigby dropped him in it head-first.

"Mordecai got attacked by your brother, but he isn't really your brother. He's this weird demon thing that likes to piss people off because it feels good or something. And now he's gone missing and we don't know where he is." The raccoon spilled the beans, then proceeded to finish the rest of the fries with nothing more than a shrug. Adelheid looked to Marcel, then to Mordecai, and back to Rigby. An expression of grave seriousness was plastered across her face. For a moment, Mordecai thought she had believed it; at least, up until she started laughing uncontrollably.

"He's a demon? My shy, sensitive little brother? There's no way I could believe that in a million years!" She paused for breath, wiping a tear from here eye while being careful not to smudge her make-up. "No offence, Richard-"

"It's Rigby." The raccoon frowned.

"-Rigby, no offence, but it sounds like you've been watching too many cartoons." She cleared her throat before she continued. "In all seriousness though, what happened? Was it a bear or what?" Before Mordecai could answer, Rigby laid it on again.

"Sebastian attacked Mordecai and then our immortal friend Skips saved him. He doesn't call himself Sebastian any more though; it's Anders." He was speaking so matter-of-factly that it seemed as though weird events happened around them on a daily basis. Adelheid thought that maybe they were lost in their own little fantasy world.

"As good as your deadpan delivery is, I would appreciate it if you stopped messing me around." Ada glared at him, dropping her cheerful mood like it was burning her. "I am a very busy woman, and I don't take kindly to being made a fool of." Rigby shrunk back, pulling his knees up in case she tried to break them.

"No, wait! He's telling the truth." Mordecai defended him, knowing that lying about it, no matter if it would save their kneecaps, was a pointless exercise.

"I am warning you, do not test my patience. It is already very thin, ever since that fool went missing." She hissed at him; an ice-cold voice that made them both shiver.

"Please, believe us! It's all true. Anders- well, Sebastian is in a lot of danger, and as long as he's still out there, he's dangerous to other people too." Mordecai tried to reason with her.

"I think you should listen to him, Ada." Marcel stepped in. "They're not lying; I can see it."

"Shut up! I will not be treated like an idiot!" She stood up, slamming her hands on the table. "Come on, Marcel; we're leaving!"

And with that, she made her way out of the booth. The gecko stayed put, waiting in his seat. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was an element of truth to what they had told. He had never heard such a strange tale in his life, though he was partial to the odd folklore story back in The Ardennes. Either there was more to this world than meets the eye, or the two twenty-somethings had perfected the art of avoiding the truth. They stared at each other for a while, each trying to fathom the others' thoughts.

A little commotion broke their concentration. "Excuse me, but who do you think you are? Get out of my way!" Adelheid sounded extremely angry. All three of the men looked over to where the badger was standing. Her route to the door was barred by an extremely large, topless fellow.

"Skips!" Rigby called to him. The yeti nodded to the raccoon in greeting.

"This is an outrage! Move out of my way this instant!" Adelheid screamed. Skips raised a finger gravely to his lips to silence her. She was quiet.

"You're related to that guy, aren't you?" It was more of a statement than a question; his imposing nature keeping Ada rooted to the spot.

"Th- that guy?" Her personality had seemingly reversed, now shy and small. "I don't know what you mean."

"Maybe we should go and sit down." Skips' unrelenting stare aimed itself towards the booth she had just left. It was a demand thinly veiled as a suggestion. Not wanting any trouble, she turned and marched herself back towards the two slackers and her bounty hunter.

"Skips, what are you doing here?" Mordecai was puzzled; the yeti's timing seemed rather miraculous. Then again, it usually was anyway.

"I sensed you had found someone of great importance." He continued to act sternly, mysteriously.

"Woah!" Rigby was fascinated. "You can sense stuff? Do you have ex-dispensory reception?" Skips broke character at Rigby's outstanding mispronunciation. A smile caught on his lips.

"Nah, I just saw you guys through the window and thought I'd say 'hi'." It was easy to see that, even without a job, Skips' sense of humour had not diminished.

"Oh." For a moment, Rigby felt stupid.

"So I'm guessing that this is Anders' mom or something?" Skips nodded in Ada's direction, eliciting an offended expression.

"Excuse me?" She gasped in exasperation.

"Are you Anders' mom or what?" The yeti didn't seem to care all too much if his guess was right or not.

"How rude!" Ada started to get back to her usual level of confidence.

"Sister?" He shrugged.

"Absolutely not." Adelheid wagged a finger. Marcel brought her back down by clearing his throat. She stopped to correct herself. "I mean, yes. I am his older sister. And stop calling him that! His name is Sebastian."

"Sorry, force of habit. Anders is the name of the demon in his head."

"Oh, really! Stop with this childish bull-"

"Be quiet." Skips leered at her, letting the command sink in. She stopped talking.

"Now listen to me." He settled in next to Mordecai and Rigby, resting his arm on the table in front of him. "I know that this might seem like a joke to you. You came all the way over here from Germany to find your brother, only to have these two tell you he's a demon."

"It's ridiculous, to say the very least." She huffed.

"Now, here's the thing; they are telling the truth." Skips remained serious throughout. Ada shook her head.

"Unbelievable. Where is the hidden camera? Show me. I can't wait to be on America's Most Gullible Tourists!" She stood again, making her way towards the front door.

"You'll regret walking out, Miss Weissmann."

She froze.

Shakily, she turned in the middle of the diner. She was slowly becoming aware of the other patrons observing the drama that was unfolding. "How do you know my name?" Skips smiled.

"What, so an old family friend can't keep tabs on their old pal's business?" Mordecai and Rigby were staring, slack-jawed. Even Marcel looked surprised.

"You have got to be joking! Old family friend? What the hell are you talking about?" Ada seemed flustered; unsure whether this stranger had done some extensive research just to mess with her or not. "You have got some... some nerve to even think about wasting my time!"

"You've never met me, but you must be Hildebert's great-granddaughter." Skips had to think for a moment, trying to put time in to perspective. "Or... Great-great-granddaughter." Ada stood trembling. Did this person actually know her ancestors, or was this becoming an ever-more elaborate practical joke?

"How did you-" Skips could see how shaky she was.

"Look, let's go somewhere else. You look like you could use some fresh air."

* * *

It was late by the time they reached the park, but Skips know that Benson would be fast asleep at his own apartment by then. Benson had left the gates unlocked for Mordecai to get back in, so they used this opportunity to wander on to the grounds. "Ugh what time is it, man?" Rigby complained, starting to feel tired. Mordecai retrieved his phone and checked the clock on the screen.

"About one A.M." Mordecai had no idea that time had passed so quickly. He should have anticipated it, seeing as the sun had already set when they met the two Europeans, but he saw no point in just calling it a night here. They still had so much to talk about, and so much to work out.

"Aw man, one A.M?" Rigby huffed and kicked at the dirt path. "Margaret's gonna be pissed if I have to wake her up!" He continued to grumble as they made their way through the darkness.

Eventually they made it to their destination. It was starting to get slightly chilly as the breeze picked up, so a table by the Snack Bar was perhaps not the best place to sit and talk. Skips had, instead, opted to lead them to his old house. He had moved out nearly a week ago, and the place had stood mostly empty and abandoned since.

"Why are we at your house, dude?" Mordecai asked. "Wouldn't Benson be kinda annoyed if he found you back here?"

"That's not important right now." Skips gravely peered across.

"He wouldn't understand though! He'd just probably start shouting at us like he always does." Rigby rolled his eyes as he complained.

"Be quiet, Rigby." Skips warned, looking around near the front door. The raccoon obeyed. "Benson made me hand my keys back, but luckily I had another copy cut so I could hide a spare." He reached under a rock and retrieved the key to the lock. He pushed it in and turned, hearing the tumblers click in to place. "I brought you here because I have a few things I still need to get; things that might be useful." He opened the door, stepping back in to his familiar front room; still with the same bare wooden floor. It was dark, with nothing but the moonlight to cast a faint glow in through the window. Mordecai stepped in after him, carefully navigating with his crutches. His way was barred by the yeti as he stood still, barely through the doorway.

"'Ello, Skips!" A chill ran up every single spine present as the gravelly cockney voice fell upon their ears. "It's bin a while."

"Death." The yeti growled. A headlamp ignited, shining against the left-hand wall from across the room. The resulting brilliant light blinded them for a moment, but their eyes soon adjusted. There sat the reaper, upon his bike, reclining at the far side of the room. "What are you doing here?" Skips balled his fists.

"What, so an ol' buddy can't just turn up and visit? Whatever happened to the good ol' days." Death leaned forwards over the handlebars, grinning stupidly.

"This is not a good time." Skips replied. Ada peered around the yeti's hulking frame to get a look at this 'Death' fellow.

"Ah, well; that does depend on your definition of a good time, Skips, me lad." The yeti remained silent. "You see, I've been meaning to come an' see you, on account of-"

"Mister...Death?" Adelheid interrupted as she stepped past Skips and in to the room. As far as she could tell, he was a biker; probably a bully of some sort, and a really unhealthy-looking one at that. As a strong business person, she was used to bullies and tormentors. "I'm terribly sorry, but I really must ask you to leave us be." All four of the other men stared in horror as she directly confronted the man who had been waiting for them in the dark. "You see, we're in quite a bit of a jam, and we really need to be getting on with something. It involves my-"

"-brother?" Death filled in the rest. "Yeah, I know. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted!" Ada shut up, waiting for him to finish what he had to say. She was slightly startled by his lucky guess. "I came to see you all on account of this thing what has been making life a bit more difficult for everyone as of late." Death leaned back again, sitting upright. "You know what I mean." The five did not answer him directly, unsure if they would be giving too much away. Mordecai, Rigby and especially Skips knew not to trifle with Death, out of principal. People who messed with Death dealt with consequences. Ada was merely holding fire out of curiosity. "Well, you see, young mister Weissmann poses a threat to me job security."

"Weissmann! Again! How do you people know my-... our name?" Ada yelled, finding the whole fiasco to be rather grating, but at the same time confusing beyond measure. Death smirked again, lifting one of his legs up and over his metal steed so that he was sitting side-saddle.

"Wow, that confrontational nature runs in your family, don't it?" He stood and made his way over to Adelheid. She flinched, backing off slightly before she quickly grabbed for her confidence once more. She stood her ground as the imposing man approached, his sun-glasses masking his true expression. "You are quite a feisty girl, aren't ya?" He laughed. "Well, Miss Adelheid Christa Weissmann, I know a lot of names. In fact, I know all the names. Names of people who've never met me, but most def'nitely know I exist." Adelheid stood in silent confusion. Something about this whole situation wasn't adding up, and it was starting to make her question things that were best left unquestioned. "I need t' keep up to date on the happenings o' the world. I'm a people person, I suppose. My job really requires that I get to know my clients quite thoroughly; I'm sure you understand, what with owning a big snack-food corporation and all." The reaper grinned, attempting to drop another hint. "By the way, your company is helping to keep me in business! Plenty of people nowadays need my services cus of their terrible diets. Thanks for that, love."

"But, I'm not a client. I don't even know you! I don't know your business, nor have I a clue what you are even talking about. Speak sense!" Her nervous outburst made Death laugh all the more.

"A'right, I'll just come out with it. Ada, love. What's my name?" He tipped his head to the side with a smile.

"I don't know but, he..." She motioned to Skips, "... called you Death. I'm guessing it's a brand name or a nickname or something?"

"It's really not a nickname or anything like that, really. I guess you could call it a brand name?" He looked to the others for reassurance on that idea. Nothing came of it, but he didn't care. "Death is my name, but I s'ppose you could say it's also my job description."

"You are really not making any sense whatsoever! Stop playing childish games!" She barked, leaning in to her shouts as she put all of her force behind it.

The skeletal man leaned in closer, getting face to face with the confused woman. "Childish games? Well, I gotta have some fun every now and again. All work and no play, and all that." He sighed, his breath reeking of rotting flesh. Ada gagged. Marcel was ready to step forward; believing this stranger was a threat to his employer.

"Hey! Back off!" The gecko shouted, putting on his deepest voice. Death looked to him for a moment and snickered.

"Or what? You'll kill me?" He stood back, doing as Marcel had demanded, but not because of the demand itself. He just wanted to be sure everyone had a good line of sight. "Oh for crying out loud!" He shook his head. "How thick are you people? Skips, me lad; tell em what I am."

"He's the grim reaper. The Angel Of Death." Skips stated without hesitation. There was no easy way to say it, so he just said it.

"Or just 'Death' for short." Death reached up to remove his sun-glasses, revealing his empty eye sockets. Ada was close enough to see with plenty of detail. The light reflecting from the wall cast dark shadows across the reaper's face; making them appear more as bottomless pits in to the unknown. The badger squealed and covered her mouth, stumbling backwards in shock.

"Your eyes! What... who? I..." Her eyes rolled back in to her head as she hyperventilated. The light faded from her vision, and with that, she passed out.

* * *

When Adelheid finally came to, she could hear the sweet sound of the dawn chorus. The early morning summer sun was shining warmly through the window and the songbirds were singing without a care in the world. It was all oddly calming, considering what she had been through over the past few days. She was content to lie there and simply enjoy it, as she very rarely got the chance to relax in her daily life. It was what she needed at that moment.

It wasn't to last, however. The sound of talking caught her attention. It was quiet, distant.

Her ears perked up as she tried to listen in on the conversation. She did not look for the source at that moment; unwilling to move from her surprisingly comfortable place on the floor. A blanket acted as a makeshift bedroll and a feather pillow supported her head. She took a deep breath and yawned, stretching her arms out. The conversation was still too quiet for her to make it out, but she kept picking up on a few words from time to time. "Anders... Germany... Dangerous... Late..." Her thoughts returned to her, letting her wake up fully.

She rolled forwards to clamber to her feet, feeling the cool wooden floorboards under her bare feet. It appeared as though someone had removed her high-heels and neatly placed them in the corner of the room. She raised an eyebrow and turned away from them, lightly stepping out in to the centre of the room. The front door was open, leading out on to the lawn by the house. She wandered out in to the cool air, carefully making her way on to the grass. The morning dew soaked her feet, making her shiver. It was not unpleasant, however. She welcomed the sensation, making her feel refreshed.

Ada peered around for the source of conversation, quickly noticing the brightly coloured skin of Marcel. She walked over to where Marcel and the rest of the men were sitting in a circle on the green, partly obscured by the corner of the house. "Hey, how long was I-" she began to call to them, but froze when she spotted the skeletal face once more. She recoiled, remembering everything that had happened. "-You! You fiend!" She pointed accusingly, unsure of what else to do or say.

"Well, tha's a bit harsh, ain' it?" Death's brow furrowed. If the rest didn't know any better of his sense of humour, they would have guessed that he was offended.

"You scared me-"

"-half to death?" The reaper smirked as he finished her sentence for her. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"I... you..." Ada bared her teeth, but couldn't find the right words to retort with. She resorted to an angry growl instead, throwing her arms in to the air. She paced around in a circle, much to Death's amusement. His laughter was infectious, and it wasn't long before Rigby joined in. "Shut up! Stop laughing!" Her objection only made them laugh harder. Soon, Marcel succumbed to it as well, snickering quietly. "Stop!" Adelheid clenched her fists and stomped over to them. She had fire in her eyes, ready to punish everyone and anyone who kept on laughing. They all stopped, save for Death, who was having a hard time keeping it under control. Adelheid glared, stepping in to the circle and leering over him with her elbow drawn back. "I said stop!" She swung for Death, who effortlessly caught her hand. He was a lot stronger than he appeared, and it felt like hitting a brick wall. The laughter had ceased. In its place was stony silence.

"Temper, temper, Miss Weissmann." Death sighed, letting her hand go. Ada withdrew her arm awkwardly, looking away. "But I guess I don't hold it against you." Death shrugged, half expecting the violent outburst. "Why don't you just come and sit here and we'll have some breakfast? Skips went to the store and got you some food." He patted the ground next to him, scooting over to allow her some room. She felt uncomfortable around Death, still doubting his professed identity, but unable to figure out quite how he had pulled off the no-eyes prank. She carefully set herself down, but kept as much distance between her and Death as possible. Mordecai reached to his side and produced a plastic bag full of breakfast burritos and various assorted, pre-packaged junk foods.

"Here, there should be enough for all of us." He looked as though he had already eaten his, judging by the crumbs that clung to his feathers. "And, I know this is kind of weird, but-"

Adelheid felt like she was being patronised, her anger flaring up once more. "Kind of weird? This is very, very fu-"

"Wait, let me explain!" Mordecai held up a hand, trying to look as friendly as possible. She caught herself before profanity poured out of her mouth. "Well, Death is... Well, Death is just Death. But he's not a bad guy, I guess. He's just got a job to do and stuff."

"Yeah, man!" Rigby butted in. "Though he knows that Rigby is off his hit-list. I've died before, already; but he's not got me yet!" The raccoon pointed to himself and smirked at the reaper. "He can't get me!" His smug proclamation ended with a sharp punch to the arm. Mordecai was still trying to get Adelheid to understand and Rigby's claims were making it rather difficult to do.

"Like I was saying; he's just got a job to do."

"Yeah, imagine a world without me. I need to be able to collect peoples' souls when they die so that life can carry on as normal, right?" Death continued the explanation.

"And Sebastian is really the host to a demon named Anders. If we can't stop it, it will kill people to take their souls away from them. He'll torment them forever, and Death will not be able to collect the souls himself." Skips added.

"And if I can't do that, it throws the delicate balance right off." Death finished. "So, ya see, Miss Weissmann, I need your help. I need you all to help. I'm a very busy man, so I don't have the time to stop Anders me self."

"Stop it. Stop it, all of you! I've had enough!" Adelheid was on the verge of tears. She was tired, worn down from all of the outlandish stories and strange people. She sniffled, taking a deep breath. "I don't want a part of this preposterous joke any more. Please just stop wasting my time." She didn't want to believe it; she wouldn't give in to it. "If you won't help me find my brother then I'm going to look for him myself!" She stood up, marching off across the grass. She had left her shoes behind but she didn't care any more. It was too much for her to bear.

"Ada, wait!" Marcel spoke up. His tone was considerably more friendly than it had ever been before. It was almost startling for Mordecai to hear it after the bitter, snide comments from before. Adelheid stopped where she was, several yards from where they were sitting. "There's something you need to see." The badger slowly turned to face them. "They're not lying at all." Marcel motioned to Skips, who was holding a leather-bound photo album. Adelheid cautiously walked back to them. Her curiosity and Marcel's certainty were all too much for her to simply let lie. "Look..."

Skips opened the album, flicking through a few pages. In passing, Ada saw several sepia photographs, instant photos and mementos from years gone by. From what she could gather, it was a mix of things from across many decades; maybe even centuries. How one man could collect so many things from such a wide span of time was beyond her. She watched silently as Skips found the page he was looking for. He presented the book to Adelheid. The rest of the group awaited her reaction.

She tried to keep the strength in her legs, but they gave way underneath her. She fell to her knees, staring intently at the double-page in front of her. The book was quaking in her hands as tears of confusion continued to roll down her dusky white cheeks.

It couldn't be; she thought.

It's not possible. Is it?

"I don't understand... It's... It's me."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_This chapter is full of twists and turns. The pace is ramping up a bit, ready for the home stretch. There may only be a few more chapters left as the story starts to come to a close! Thank you all for reading so far, and I hope you'll all stick around as the story nears the end._

_Death is a lot of fun to write for, by the way. _

_-Sy_


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